


Last December

by Mars00135



Category: Painter of the Night (Yahwacheop) by Byeonduck, 야화첩 | Painter of the Night (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Art Professor Jung Inhun, Bad Parenting, Based in New York, Dating like a New Yorker, Dealing with Family Pressure, Even more awkward second meetings, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family Drama, Fine Arts Student Baek Nakyum, Fluff, Forgiveness, General Surgeon Kim Ahn (Mr. Kim), Graphic Design Student Yoon Seungwon, Healing, Heartbreak, I will ALWAYS blame SimplyTsundere, Illness, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, In Mr. Kim We Trust!!, It ain't always fun being the eldest, Kissing in the Rain, Learning to Trust Again, M/M, Medical Student Jihwa, Medical Student Yoon Seunho, Modern AU, More like love making, No rape with Yoon Seungho because I don't roll that way, Not everything is so black and white, OC Yoon Soo-Min (Seungho's sister), Painter Baek Nakyum, Panic Attacks, Realistic plot, Redemption, Romance, Seungho's Father Is An Ass, Seungwon and Nakyum are classmates, Sickness, Slow Burn, Tasteful Smut, Writer Yoon Seungho, awkward first meetings, high society - Freeform, learning to love again, loss of family, mental stress, music references, previous relationships, real love, sweet nothings, twin flames
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:15:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 91,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23153863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mars00135/pseuds/Mars00135
Summary: Sleep, pre-rounds, eat, surgery, study, repeat. Day in and day out, Yoon Seungho lives with the burden of family responsibilities and the stress that comes with being a surgical intern fresh out of university. His father will never approve of his choices regardless of what they are but he can't rebel regardless of how much he dreams of freedom because it will only place more strain on his siblings. So he copes, as much as he can, until one night he stumbles upon a lone figure crying on a park bench in the rain.
Relationships: Baek Nakyum/Yoon Seungho
Comments: 106
Kudos: 200





	1. Soft Trees Break the Fall

............... _Early December_present day_...............

The deadbolt of the door clacked into place as it unlocked with the jingling of keys dangling from the faux lucky rabbit's foot charm Seungho had received as a gag Christmas gift in his stocking two years ago. The thing was apple green with some spots of white from where paint had accidentally fallen onto it while he and his friends painted the walls of his apartment. Grunting when his tired back cracked as he bent over to pick up Loom, the short-haired Russian blue cat he and his spouse had adopted when they had first moved in together. Smiling softly as he scratched the creature's weak spot behind its ears, Seungho couldn't help the small chuckle when it aggressively nudged its head against his jaw and neck. It was so affectionate with him that there were moments when his spouse snickered how Loom was the true husband and he was the mistress.

"I take it you missed me," Seungho spoke in a low tone. It was too early to speak loud. Setting Loom down on the hardwood floor, he arched a brow with a slight smirk. "Let's go find your other dad."

Setting the keys down in the dish made of peso's he had bought on his honeymoon through Latin America, he slipped his scarf and overcoat off--hanging them on the coat hooks by the front door of the spacious flat. Abandoning his luggage at the entryway, Seungho patted his leg in signal for Loom to follow. With the cat hot on his heels, he searched the spaces his spouse could possibly be stashed away. It had become a habit of theirs that whenever Seungho would leave for a convention or work across seas, his introvert of a husband would lock themselves up in either their studio, the solarium near the west end of their top floor flat, or would spend his days moping in bed watching Hulu or Netflix.

Briefly popping into the studio, Seungho paused when he saw the latest canvas piece. It was rare when Nakyum painted on canvas. He usually prefered parchment because "it felt more genuine" as he had once said. But it was hard to find large pieces of parchment longer than eight feet with a width of four feet so there were times when he had to compromise and use canvas. Brushing his fingers along the dried brushstrokes that created the dreamy scene of two faceless figures making love with sakura blossoms falling, Seungho already knew the story behind the picture. Knew the secrets whispered between the two men and the greediness of their hands as they clung tightly to one another in hysterical bliss. It had been named "Spring"--an apt title as it had been spring when they had started dating and spring when he had proposed.

Swallowing hard as the memories bubbled up, he sighed them away. It was strange when the nostalgia hit him. He'd never been good with handling emotions--both those of others and his own. But since he'd met Nakyum, he'd gotten better. Had learned what it meant to truly be human and live through the human experience. It was why thinking back to those early days had him both hanging his head in shame and embarrassment but also laughing because he had been such a brat during his formative years in college.

With one last look at the painting, he abandoned it to silence and continued on in search of his spouse. Checking the solarium that had begun to glitter and gleam with the powdery pinks and golden rays of the morning sun, Seungho closed the door behind him quietly knowing there was only one other place his husband could be. Turning down the hall to the east end of the flat, he passed by the dozens of photos that decorated the walls. Still frames suspended in time, they captured the highs and lows and the worst and the very best of their days together. 

There was a picture of Nakyum frowning in a hospital bed with his foot in a cast and an IV drip from when he had fallen down the stairs at university. They had been fighting that day and Nakyum was screaming at him and hitting him in the chest as he tried to make his point. It was when Seungho moved away to escape his tirade that Nakyum misstepped and fell down the stair well. Next to it was the picture they had taken together on their honeymoon. They had stayed in Singapore for a week before heading to Latin America and his excited spouse wanted nothing more than to go to the Singapore Botanic Gardens and see the exotic birds. There, with both arms and his head dotted with macaws and parrots and toucans, Nakyum stood smiling like a child with the sun in his eyes. Beside that was one of Seungho's favorites. It was a portrait he had taken in secret of Nakyum gazing up at the flowered garden pillars in the Gardens By The Bay--his awestruck face lit up in candy pinks and ultramarine blues with pops of neon green and violet.

Images of bike rides through Aix-En-Provence after graduation and Nakyum dead asleep surrounded by towers of cardboard boxes when they had first made the move to London with Loom conked out on his stomach. Candid mid-laugh snapshots of the painter walking along the Seine intermixed with pictures Nakyum had snuck of Seungho passed out and drooling on his desk during the long nights he'd have in preparation for his presentation to the surgical board. Their last days in New York. Pictures of friends getting married and their babies. Cringe worthy photos of him and Nakyum kissing drunk on the couch in their costumes at their friend Omari's halloween party. A series of images of Nakyum in Holland with flowers in his hair and eyes fixed on the hot air balloons floating across the crystalline skies. All the trips they'd taken and the quiet mornings in bed, the afternoons at the cafe, and the parties they'd had with friends and. It was all there. Everything that made them " _them_ " was there for the world to see; proudly displayed as if to say that they had conquered what the world had thrown their way and had come out victorious.

More excited than before, his feet carried him as swiftly as they could without tripping to the door to the master bedroom. Hesitating only momentarily, Seungho quietly turned the knob--wincing when it creaked and whined as the entrance opened. Eyes fixed and dreamy with a closed mouth smile aloft on his lips, he folded his arms and leaned against the door post; snorting a quiet laugh at the sight. Curled up on his stomach was Nakyum wearing green plaid boxers and Seungho's old maroon long sleeve thermal--the one with the small hole in the neck and the hole he had chewed into the cuff of the left sleeve. Cradling the duvet blanket as if _it_ were his husband, the painter slumbered without a care; his breaths light and easy.

It did not really matter how many years had passed or would pass. Not a thing about him had changed. From his unruly bedhead to his youthful countenance, he was just as beautiful as he had been the night Seungho had stumbled across him in Central Park. His hair was a bit longer and more wavy and he had gotten his first gray hair a few weeks ago before Seungho had left for the conference he was presenting at.They both had a good laugh about it once Nakyum had stopped fretting over it. He was only in his early thirties but the men in his family had a habit of going gray early on so it was to be expected that he'd follow suit.

Pushing away from the doorframe, Seungho toed off his shoes before carefully climbing into bed behind his sleepy-eyed spouse. Wrapping his arms around Nakyum's frame, he melted into the warmth; nearly purring his content as his body took the chance to finally relax. Toes brushing the soles of his partners feet and fingers twining together--his cold from the winter frost outside and Nakyum's warm, he let himself be swept up in this quiet moment. Let himself fall into the easy rise and fall of Nakyum's back pressing into his chest with every breath and the collapse as he exhaled out. He let himself sink into this void of tranquility where all he could hear with the clock ticking in the hallway and the cars passing in the streets below.

This little world that existed of just them--this world that smelt of clean cotton linens and Nakyum's rose shampoo, it flooded every part of Seungho's being. Filled him with the simplest of joys because what he felt couldn't be bought or sold; couldn't be traded or bargained for. It was theirs, this joy and it overwhelmed him. Kissing the back of Nakyum's neck, he recalled those uncertain times when everything they had thought they were sure of had been turned on its head. Those days they had spent apart and those long nights he'd endured without sleep--crying like a child frightened of the dark while praying for someone to save him. The terrifying reunion during which Seungho was almost certain Nakyum wouldn't take him back. He had been such a fool--had hurt him so many times he could have been likened to an accidental sadist. But it was by grace and grace alone that Nakyum had forgiven him; that he had given him a second chance on the condition that he change his ways and communicate like the adult he was expected to be.

Nuzzling in closer, Seungho pushed those thoughts out of his mind. Too often did he reflect on the past because it was any wonder to him how they had ended up where they were. It was nothing short of a miracle--one that he was eternally indebted to whatever God's above there were. Kissing the back of Nakyum's neck once more, he trailed kisses up to the man's ear where he toyed with his earlobe, nosed at his jaw, and came to rest with his cheek pressed to his pulse. Eyes closed and at peace, his mind began to drift when he felt the form in his arms stir.

"Mmm," Nakyum groaned as he slowly came to. Breathing in sharply as he stretched and twisted, his brows knitted together when he felt another presence beside him. Turning only halfway around so that he could see over his shoulder, a small tired smile curled the corners of his lips. "You're home?"

"Yeah," Seungho said softly with a kiss to his forehead as he smoothed his husbands lush hair back. "I caught an early flight back. Surprised?"

"Mhmm," he hummed, rolling over completely now so that he could capture Seungho in his arms. Rubbing his face against his shirt as if to chase away the sleep from his eyes, Nakyum melted into Seungho--his legs woven with his partners, their hips flush, and his cheek rested atop Seungho's heart. "Welcome home," was all he could manage before yawning.

"Thanks love," he cooed; pulling the duvet and chunky woven blankets over them as they drifted asleep. "It's good to be home."

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

............... _One Morning in November_seven years ago_...............

Alarm screeching from the nightstand like a banshee, Seungho groaned as he rolled onto his back. Eyes prying open with bitterness swimming in pools of weary earthen brown, he stared at the ceiling contemplating what would happen if he called out of work for the day. He had worked the last three days in a row--sleeping when he could in the on-call residents room at the hospital and dozing in on the couches in the doctors lounge; him jerking awake whenever someone slammed their locker shut.

"Maybe Miranda would take my call for me," he mumbled to himself. 

She did owe him after all after how he covered for her in the ER two weeks ago when she got piss drunk at her bachelorette party the night before and called out at the last minute. Technically interns like them weren't allowed to to that but Doctor Kim was too nice for his own good and he was the attending that day. Slapping his hand on the top of the alarm clock to set it to snooze, Seungho grabbed his phone to check what the day was. If it was Thursday he would call out because Doctor Kim and Doctor Loveridge would be the surgeons in charge of the interns.

"God fucking damn it," he whined. With an embittered whimper, Seungho growled as he slammed his head back against the pillows. "It's only Wednesday."

There was no way in heaven or hell that he could call out on a Wednesday. Unless he was bleeding to death, missing a limb, or giving birth, he couldn't call out. Doctor Kiekel would fillet him alive if he did. Despite her chipper facade and pixie-esque build and aquamarine streaked blonde hair the woman was a frightening force to be reckoned with that could bring mountains crumbling to her knees if she so wished. It was why she was head of cardiothoracics and the two time recipient of the Lasker Award. Fierce but fair, kind yet unyielding, she would not budge on her beliefs--one of which was a strong work ethic and if you were scheduled to work then you worked; no questions asked. 

Slumping out of bed, he hit reset on the alarm to make sure it didn't go off a second time before he dragged himself into the bathroom to wash up. After a brisk shower and brushing his teeth, Seungho dried off his long hair while as he pondered whether or not he should just chop it all off. It was a hassle in the mornings and was nothing but a tangled mess after a long days work but he did not have an ounce of time to waste at the barbers. So the hair lived to annoy him another day. Combing it briefly before it was pulled back into a half-assed bun that slumped on the back of his head, he slipped into a clean pair of black joggers, a plain white shirt, and his favorite gray hoodie. Shrugging on his tried and true black leather bomber because it was too cold now to go out with only two layers, he pulled on a pair of comfortable sneakers even though he was going to change into his Nikes at work because they had the most arch support.

Tugging on a beanie as he grabbed his backpack, phone, and keys, he hurried down the hall and through the living room to the kitchen where he grabbed a can of nitro brew Starbucks from the fridge and one of the bagels from the bread and fruit basket on the counter. With the bagel bit between his lips, he raced out the door locking it behind him. Checking his watch, he barely missed bumping into Mrs. Weisberg on the stairs. Apologizing to the grayed and wizened woman as she grumbled under her breath about how no one respected the elderly anymore, he spun back around and raced down the stairs--bolting through the front doors and into the bitter early early morning chill.

The sun wasn't even up but it never was when he went to work nowadays. The last time he had woken up after eight in the morning was when he had just finished his premed program and had all of two weeks to relax before starting his surgical internship. Shivering as the wind came rolling in from the channel, Seungho hurried to the subway where he found sanctuary in the blaring fluorescent overhead lights and the smell of piss and dirt by the ticket booths where two homeless men were sleeping. Tapping his pass on the digital face at the gate, he rushed through hoping he wouldn't miss his train. If he did he'd be ten minutes late which meant Doctor Kiekel would gently tear him a new one in front of his peers.

Stammering a "sorry" when he bumped into a young man carrying god only knew what in his art kit that spilled onto the tiled floor. Stepping back when the man snapped that it was fine--his voice raw as if he'd been crying, Seungho didn't try any further to assist the guy. If he didn't want his help then he wouldn't offer it. Wasn't like he knew him or was obligated to be nice if the other person was being dismissive. Without a second thought, he turned his back and hopped onto the subway just in time.

\---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---

"You're late," Saad teased as Seungho came rushing into the locker room. "We all thought you were gonna call off."

"I was having a moment this morning," Seungho grunted as he quickly yanked his shirt off and slipped out of his pants and changed into his black thermals and navy blue scrubs. Slipping his cellphone into the pocket stitched to the inside of their pants so that it wouldn't cross-contaminate any of the lab coats or surgical equipment, he swapped out his shoes and fixed his waterproof watch to his wrist. "Who's the attending?"

"Connor."

"Thank fucking god."

Saad gave a confused lopsided grin. "Why? What's eatin' you?"

"Nothing. I just don't think I can handle McQuitty today and Kiekel."

"Well luckily for you, McQuitty left for maternity leave yesterday so Connor's taking her shifts until they figure everything out."

"Awesome." Closing his locker, Seungho looped his stethoscope around his neck and clipped his badge to the lip of his outward facing breast pocket. "You coming?"

"Yeah man, I'm coming."

Joined by Miranda, Dennis or "Paolo" as some called him, Omari, and Kat, Seungho was only mildly surprised to see Kailey and Lindsey absent from roll call. They had just finished moving into their new apartment so chances were that they had exhausted themselves and called off because there was no chance they could lift patients or stand in on the lengthy surgeries that were scheduled for that day. It was their loss though because that meant he'd get to scrub in on Doctor Wessling's craniotomy and maybe even the open heart Doctor TK was doing in pediatrics later that afternoon around four o'clock.

"You didn't call when you got home last night," spoke a familiar voice behind him.

Sighing to himself, Seungho glanced to his side to see an all too satisfied Jihwa. They had graduated from the same medical program at Stanford and had competed for top honors with Seungho "barely beating him by a hair" as Jihwa had put it. They weren't the best of friends but they weren't enemies either. Not really. They were more like friendly rivals that occasionally fucked and went out for drinks afterwords. Why he looked so smug that morning was anyone's guess but Seungho didn't pay it any heed. He was too tired to ponder the meaning behind the man's sly smirk.

"I was too tired to call," he said without batting a lash.

"Gee, thanks." Quieting down when Doctor Kiekel and Doctor Dawson showed up to assign the interns, Jihwa whispered, "You sure know how to make a man feel special."

"All we did was fuck," Seungho whispered back. "Don't read too much into something that isn't there."

Leaving Jihwa behind when his name was called, Seungho took his dossier for his five patients and left. It wasn't cruel nor was he wrong. They were nothing. Just fuck buddies that shared a workspace and bitched about work when they met up outside of the hospital or the bedroom. Flipping open the metal folder with the files clipped to the inside, he thumbed through the first patient's information to familiarize himself with the case. Once in work mode he could ignore the exhaustion and the insomnia he'd been suffering through for the last few days. Hanging a left and then a right when he reached the end of the hall, he paused outside the doorway, took a deep breath, then put on his best smile.

"Morning Serendipity," he greeted the young redhead girl laying in the hospital bed. "You must be her parents," Seungho asked rhetorically as he shook hands with the blonde middle-aged woman sitting on the side of the bed and the red haired man with crows feet book-ending his glassy brown eyes. "My name is Doctor Yoon and I'll be the physician handling your daughters case."

\---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---

It had been nothing but go, go, go from the moment he clocked in to the moment he left work. With only an hour for lunch, the other twelve hours were spent running labs, scrubbing cases, checking patients vitals, and losing one to a grand mal seizure caused by a brain hemorrhage. The boy was only nineteen and was on his way to classes that morning when he slipped and fell on some black ice. It was only hours later that he had begun to seize and was brought in. But just when Seungho and Omari thought they had the teen stable and left to write up the paperwork for an MRI the boy began to convulse in his room and died shortly after he had arrived.

Wiping the vomit from his lips, Seungho flushed the toilet with his eyes closed and both palms pressing into the porcelain tank for support. He knew it was going to be an awful day but why did a kid have to die? He had never considered himself weak or soft but there was just something about the boy's death that hit him harder than the others that had been lost in the year he'd been working at the hospital. Maybe it was because he reminded him of his brother? The kid was closer to Mimi's age though and was nowhere near as mellow and soft spoken as Seungwon. Whatever it was, he didn't want to think about it. He was tired and had the taste of vomit lingering on his tongue. With his shift now over, he was free to wash up and head back home.

"At least tomorrow's my day off," Seungho grumbled to himself.

Maybe he could finally get a decent night's rest and chip away at the bags that had begun to form under his eyes. ' _Maybe I'll call Jihwa over,_ ' he considered then swiftly reconsidered as he switched into his regular street clothes. If he called Jihwa over sure, he'd have the opportunity to unwind and relieve some stress with a good fuck but then Jihwa would want to stay over and talk and wouldn't leave him alone until they both passed out. And even then, he'd have to deal with the guy in the morning and Seungho was not in the head space for that. Consigning himself to watching tv until he fell asleep, he tugged his hoodie and jacket back on while wrapping the spare scarf he kept in his locker around his neck. With his beanie on and backpack checked, he clocked out for the day--saying goodbye to Michelle and Jerrie, the "mom's of the OR" as everyone fondly knew them. They were the only two women that could boss him around and he wouldn't sass back.

Jamming both hands into his pockets after he surfaced from the subway near his place by 5th and E 76th, Seungho grimaced at the rain as it casually began to fall in a lazy procession. It was better than the snow but not by much considering it was still cold and managed to get in everywhere. Walking down the quiet neighborhood streets that came right up to the east end of Central Park, he thought nothing of the passerby's or the few homeless men and women that pushed their carts and wagons along as they searched for shelter. But it was as he was about to turn onto his street that stopped mid-step with a knitted brow then spun around. Following what sounded like singing, he could not help his curiosity. Who in their right mind would be out at this hour singing so lamentingly in Central Park? It was as he drew closer to the park entrance that he spotted the person in question.

Laying on a park bench with eyes on the cloudy heavens above wearing the sorriest of smiles was a young man with thick wavy black hair and fair skin that was pink in the appled cheeks of his face from the cold. Singing his own rendition of Sinatra's "Send In The Clowns," the young man was clearly inebriated. That or he was on drugs because anyone in their right mind would have been anywhere but there. Watching closely, Seungho noticed the wateriness of the strangers voice--the morose inflections to his tone and the sniffling here and there.

"Excuse me," he interrupted though not without caution as he approached the young man. The last thing he wanted was to be attacked by one of New York's famous psychopathic vagrants though that would just be his luck with the way his day had been going. Upon closer inspection though, he didn't look homeless so perhaps he was a functioning psycho. "Sir, are you alright? Do you want me to call you a cab?"

Pausing mid-verse, the young man tilted his head back and gazed up at Seungho with the most haunting amber eyes then, within moments, his boyish smile crumpled as tears overtook him. "Why are you here Professor Jung?"

"Who?"

"I'm sorry. You don't need to worry about me. I'll be alright so you can go home."

"You don't look alright," Seungho pressed. He didn't know why he cared about the brat or why his tears stirred him but he couldn't leave him. It would be a stain upon him as a doctor to do so. "Look, tell me where you live and I'll buy you a taxi home. You can't stay out here in the rain. You'll catch your death in this cold."

"I'm fine professor. Go home and I'll see you in class tomorrow."

' _So he really is a brat. I thought he looked young. Guess he's a college kid_.' Sighing roughly with a groan for the upteenth time that day, Seungho pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, dragged his hands up, over, and then down his face as he weighed his options. It was with a harsh exhale and a glance in the young man's direction that he caved. "There goes my evening."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyo and How Ya' Doin' and Welcome to my fanfic for Painter of The Night (Yahwacheop). I'm so happy to see y'all here because I never thought I'd get this fic off the ground. There was a lot of figuring out to do and even more when it came to tinkering with certain aspects of the characters. As you know, there are certain darker elements present in the original story because they were definitely relevant to the times and fed in to the caste system that was present in Joseon era Korea. I have thought a great deal about including these aspects into my fic and have made the executive decision to exclude them--namely because it is very hard as a rape survivor to write rape into a story but also because I feel the story itself can carry its own weight without that added baggage.
> 
> I wanted to address this now and disclose the reasons why I did what I did with you, my readers, because I believe in writer-reader transparency and I don't want y'all to come here with certain expectations only to be let down when you see those parts of the manhwa absent from this fic. I have tried to stay close to cannon with their personalities though some parts had to change to fit the moral codes and norms that are deemed acceptable in modern day society like Yoon Seungho not going around and killing people just because he's pissed. That would totally not make sense nowadays so I have excluded it from his character. He does still get angry and shows it but it's in a different way. In addition to this I have made Seungho a bit softer around the edges though he's still a piece. I tried to imagine what he'd be like in modern times had he had a less violent or traumatic upbringing as the author has hinted at in the fic. So yeah, keep that in mind. I've also made Nakyum a bit stronger than he is initially in the story because it just seemed to fit the fiery back-talking personality he develops later on in the original storyline.
> 
> One more thing I want to add is that I did not know Jihwa's confirmed surname while I was writing this. One translation that I read said "Sung" while a different one said "Lee" but I chose Sung Jihwa because it was the one I read first and by the time the other surname appeared I had already published seven chapters so Jihwa's surname this time around is "Sung." If anyone DOES KNOW his lastname please let me know because I want to be accurate with the next POTN fanfic I write.
> 
> So yeah, please don't be upset, give this a chance, and I hope you enjoy my modern-day take on romance.
> 
> Stay lovely and stay freaky,
> 
> -Sunday


	2. I Went Up, I Went Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Now that I know what I didn't know_   
>  _When I held your hand_   
>  _Light streaming in_   
>  _Opened your eyes_   
>  _Saw me begin_   
>  _To let go the prize_
> 
> -Sea Wolf, _Back to the Wind_

The world was spinning before Nakyum had even opened his eyes. He knew he should not have drank as much as he had the night before. Could have sworn he had even told this to himself aloud as he reached for his third and fourth pints of beer. But the needling irritation and misery that had burrowed beneath his skin where it had made a home was too much to ignore. ' _If only I were a woman. If only I had been born with a feminine figure, long blonde hair, blue eyes, and a womb then I would have stood a chance. Maybe he would have looked at me even if I were a man if I just looked like her._ ' 

The thoughts swam through his dwindling consciousness the evening prior before he blacked out entirely. Where he had gone after that Nakyum hadn't the foggiest idea. So much had gone missing between then and now--between here and there that he couldn't even follow the pathetic trail of mental breadcrumbs left behind. Mental snapshots that flickered in and out as he stirred awake. Memories that he couldn't distinguish as real or false; just that they were there and they were his only hints as to what had transpired. 

A number scrawled on his right wrist with what could only be eyeliner. Nakyum could tell from the way it had smudged in his sleep. He felt sticky and rough, as if he'd been dragged through the gutter somewhere. ' _I was half dead on a park bench I think. Maybe that's why?_ ' Again, the memory was hazy--caught somewhere in his mind that couldn't exactly be found. Had he really fallen asleep on a park bench? If so then why was he on a couch? Did he call a taxi in his drunken stupor and make it home by the skin of his teeth? 

Rolling onto his side with eyes still screwed shut for fear of the light and the pain it'd bring, Nakyum cracked the weak aching joints of his neck and elbows and back--he feeling as though he'd been dragged through a wood chipper and left for dead. Held together by toothpicks and dental floss, he was in far worse shape than he'd anticipated. Head throbbing, bones screaming, and eyes burning from all the crying he'd done, he was a complete and utter mess.

"I'm never drinking again," he groaned into the couch cushion that frighteningly enough smelt nothing like the cleaner he and his grandfather used. He wasn't in his own home. 

"Hopefully not like that or else you'll die from alcohol poisoning," noted a cool smooth and unfamiliar voice.

Too mortified to move, Nakyum remained frozen in place, not daring to look up as his fists tightened on the blanket that he had been covered with the night before. This poor stranger, whoever they were, had probably heard all his senseless rambling and whining and professions of love and how it'd forever remain unrequited. This was to say that his embarrassment was limited to this alone and he hadn't further made a fool of himself vomiting all over the place whilst crying as was his usual mode when drinking in a depressed state. Body going rigid as the stranger approached the couch, Nakyum kept his eyes shut; his face hidden in his fists that had gone white in the knuckles from how tightly he was gripping the blanket.

"You look like death warmed over," the man said. He sighed, the breath of which wafted against the skin of Nakyum's neck. "You'll likely want to wash up because you've been in the same clothes all night. Also, drink this," he said, his hand moving to pressed the outside of a warm cup to Nakyum's hand. "It'll help with the headache and the nausea."

Dignity lost, he timidly lifted his head--first looking at the mug of tea with a lemon floating in it and then slowly up. Gaze meeting that of a handsome man with eyes like the earth with flecks of copper, he stared for only a moment then looked back to the cup. Why would someone take a stranger in--someone who could have likely been one of the crazy vagrants New York was known for--and tend to them after sheltering them for the evening? No one Nakyum knew would do such a thing. Perhaps Seungwon would because he was far too kind for his own good and maybe Charlie because she knew what it was like to be without a place to call home. But most others wouldn't. They'd turn away and leave them to freeze in the rain.

"Are you going to drink it or not?" he asked--voice impassive and detached; a juxtaposition to his actions.

Quietly taking the cup from the man as he sat up on the couch, Nakyum cradled it in his hands allowing the heat to bring feeling back into his frostbitten fingers. "Thank you," he murmured; his voice just a breath above a whisper.

They sat there for a moment in suspended silence--the man and him with he drinking the tea and him watching with indecipherable eyes. No words were spoken. No glances were shared or caught between them either. It were as if Nakyum were a specimen on display and the stranger was the physician examining him for anomalies. His gaze was invasive, prying, and intrusive. There was no need for the stranger to speak because his expression alone said all there was that he wished to say and yet nothing at all. This sangfroid and casual demeanor both intrigued and baffled Nakyum as he shifted uncomfortably in place.

"I'm sorry for inconveniencing you," he said with a bowed head and averted gaze. "I hope I did not cause you too much trouble."

"I can't say you didn't but I'd rather that then go to sleep knowing I'd left you out to die in the cold." Again, the man was looking at him. "What's your name?"

"My name?" Nakyum parroted as if the inquest had smacked all sense out of him.

The stranger arched a brow. He was waiting and would continue waiting until he got an answer.

"Nakyum Baek."

"Are you a student?"

 _Oh god, why would he ask that? Did I say something?_ Swallowing the ball of nerves welling up in his throat, Nakyum nodded. "W-Why?"

"Do you live in the dorms? I'll order you a taxi to take you home when you're ready."

"I d-don't. I commute in."

"Where from?"

Why was he so curious? What was it to him where he commuted in from? "East Flatbush."

"You live in Brooklyn?" It were as if he couldn't believe such a thing were possible. "That's a long commute." Watching Nakyum for a second longer as he nursed his tea, the stranger offered a small smile. "I'm Seungho. And you don't have to be so tense around me. I'm not some creep that picks up random strangers. I'm just asking you these questions so I can figure out how to get you home."

"Not like anyone cares," Nakyum muttered to himself--eyes fixed on the cup as he swirled the liquid inside. Catching himself a moment later he looked up with an apology already hanging from his lips. "S-Sorry. I didn't mean to be rude."

"You don't need to apologize. Not like I can't relate to the sentiment."

They lingered in the awkward silence for a moment longer; Nakyum shyly lifting the tea to his lips so that he could sip at it while Seungho exhaled a weighted sigh, looked away, and anxiously rubbed the nape of his neck. He wasn't any good with this sort of thing. Always seemed to fail where words were required and social relations where concerned. This inability to connect--this "failure" as his father had put it--was precisely why he chose medicine over the family business and didn't go into law with his father. Seungho wasn't a "people person" and never would be. It's why he was pursuing surgery over a general practice and cardiothoracics for his specialty because neurosurgeons had to talk to their patients to make sure they didn't botch the surgery midway through.

Yet there he sat, a man who hated small talk and idle chatter, trying to figure out the strange university student on his couch sipping his favorite vanilla citrus tea from his Stanford mug. It was a morning he knew he'd likely never forget.

"Do you have your metro pass on you?" Seungho asked if only to break the suffocating silence.

Nakyum nodded. He was still too tense and uncomfortable to speak full sentences. Reaching for his back pocket, his amber eyes widened. Panic flooding him, he sat the mug down and patted his back pockets--dug through them as if they were infinite and were purposefully hiding something from him. Hands jamming themselves into his front pockets and then those of his jacket, he stopped abruptly--gaze on the ground and regret awash in his eyes.

"I-I could've have s-sworn that I h-had my w-wallet. Shit...Shit! God damn it!" His expression crumbled and his eyes welled with tears ripe to fall. Trembling fingers combing through his hair, he roughly gnawed on his bottom lip while recounting his footsteps from the night before. "The l-last I thing r-remember w-was leaving the bar a-and...I just...."

"Hey, calm down and breathe for a moment," Seungho said--it first as a suggestion and then a demand when Nakyum began to hyperventilate. 

Thoughts taking him back to when his little brother would have his panic attacks, Seungho forced him into a bent over position with his head between his knees and applied minimal pressure to his back. Discreetly taking the boy's wrist in his left hand with two fingers placed on his pulse, he looked up at the clock mounted on the far right wall near the kitchen entrance. Wordlessly, he counted the number of beats per minute then did a quick calculation in his head to make sure Nakyum's pulse was normal. Satisfied by the numbers that he had crunched, Seungho was then faced with the monumental task of calming down someone he knew nothing about.

"Nakyum, I need you to listen to me. Can you do that?"

Nakyum nodded albeit only slightly.

"Good. Now, can you take a deep breath for me? We'll do it together. When I count to three I want you to take a deep breath and hold it." Gaze darting to his hand that had been on the young man's pulse, his eyes went wide with shock as Nakyum took his hand in his--the boy's palm clammy and his grip desperate. "Okay," he began, "here we go. One, two, three."

They breathed in together on the third count--Seungho calm and collected while Nakyum was rough and ragged as if the exercise hurt him. After twelves seconds Seungho was the first to exhale followed by the still shaking student. Leg jiggling frantically and fingers twitching where they gripped, he was no more closer to calming down than he was a moment ago. Repeating the exercise a second time, a third, and then a fourth time, Seungho walked him through each breath. Let the young man squeeze his hand 'til his fingers were numb because he'd rather lose feeling in them than have to drive a stranger to the hospital on his day off.

Breathing in then out once more, Seungho's lips twitched into a small smile when the shaking slowly stopped, the vice grip on his hand lessened, and Nakyum sat up with a sniffle. "There you go. One more time okay. One, two, three." They took a deep breath, held it, then released--their gaze meeting with the exhale. It was strange, but, in that moment, he could have sworn he saw flecks of gold and green swimming in the depths of the kid's eyes. "Good job. You did well. You feel a little better?"

Nakyum shook his head; tear trails still staining his cheeks and lips swollen from biting them too much.

"Now, I don't think I can help with finding your wallet. You were piss drunk when I found you and only had on what you got now so I won't be of much help in that regard. But I can make sure you get home." Watching closely as Nakyum looked away, he could not be sure whether it was out of embarrassment, a need for privacy, or both perhaps. "You said you live in Flatbush. Where, exactly?"

Sniffling, Nakyum choked back his tears because he had had enough of them. "4002 Farragut Road in Brooklyn."

"What're the cross streets?"

"Farragut Road and East 40th Street."

"Okay. I'm going to call you a taxi to take you home. But before I do, you should probably wash up. I doubt you want to sit in a cab for an hour wearing wet clothes."

"They're kinda dry," Nakyum countered meekly as he looked down at his wrinkled t-shirt, water logged jeans, and musty hoodie. He recanted when he saw the unimpressed look on Seungho's face. "My clothes will still be wet even if I shower though."

"I was going to throw them in the dryer while you were washing up."

"Why are you doing this?" He couldn't help himself. It didn't make sense; none of it did. Why would a perfect stranger go to such lengths of someone they hardly knew?

"Because it's the human thing to do." Before an argument could be made or questions could be asked, Seungho rose--his hands moving to the inside of his pockets. "Come on, I'll show you where the bathroom is. Set your clothes on the ground outside the bathroom before you jump in the shower and I'll dry them for you. Understand?"

Again, Nakyum could only nod.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

............... _one week later_...............

Full lips smacking with a perfectly painted coat of candy apple red gloss defining her pout as Ashnikko played over her mini cat speaker, Soo-min winked at her reflection after looking herself up and down to make sure looked impeccable that morning. Dancing to the music while mouthing the words to the song her father hated and brothers tolerated, she fastened her favorite safety pin YSL earrings to her ears and decorated the rims with little silver moon studs and tiny yellow diamond posts she had gotten for her birthday a month ago. Dancing to the music she grooved over to her walk in closet to pick out the final pieces of her outfit for the day.

Not paying attention to her surroundings--not that she cared who heard--Soo-min sang with passion, "You wish, you wish I missed you! Back the fuck up, I dismiss you! You better stock up on tissues! Jacking off to all my pictures!"

"Wow, that's a bit much," interjected a voice from the doorway.

Casually glancing over her shoulder without an ounce of shame, she smiled when she spotted her brother leaning against the doorpost with a solitary and curious brow raised. "Isn't it though?"

"You know dad hates it when you blast this."

"Oh I know." Again, she didn't care in the least. If their father wanted to be a parent he'd do more than throw money at them and yell at them when they got bad grades. "What do you want Seungwon?"

"I was wondering if you got Seungho's text yesterday?"

"You mean the one where he said he had to cancel lunch _again_ because so-and-so needs him to do some stupid shit at the hospital? Yeah, I got it."

Swallowing his words before they could escape him, Seungwon gave an exasperated sigh. It had been like this for a while now; since Seungho had moved out and left them with their detached and uncaring father. It wasn't as though Soo-min didn't understand why their older brother had left. The two older men fought worst than cats and dogs did and it all came to a head when their old man caught Seungho in bed with another man. Their father gave him an ultimatum to change or never show his face at the house again. It was no surprise to Seungwon when his brother packed his things and left. But Soo-min was devastated.

Since childhood, she had been attached to their brother at the hip and would fuss whenever someone tried to "steal him away." He was the only perfect man in her eyes. Hated that she couldn't see him every day but hated his shitty boytoys even more because no one was good enough. No one ever could be good enough. But Soo-min got by on the two lunches a week they shared with her, Seungho, and Seungwon. They'd go to the latest foodie hotspots or hit up old favorites in Queens or Nom Wah tea parlor Chinatown. Granny Wu's dim sum always had been Seungho's favorite.

But things had changed when Seungho graduated from med school and began his internship at Mount Sinai. His schedule was unpredictable and even when they did meet up his was half dead on his feet. Usually they'd end up eating at his place, watch something on Hulu or Netflix to which he'd fall asleep on the couch. She knew it wasn't his fault. That he wasn't doing it on purpose or because he hated them. Seungho had been trying hard to break out from under their fathers thumb for the majority of his life and now was his chance. For course he'd be killing himself giving this internship everything he had. That was how he always had been with his studies--voracious and unyielding with a drive unlike any other. But with that came sacrifice and, much to her chagrin, their time together was something that had to be put on the back burner.

It was why it hurt so much every time he texted them his apology. It was why she hated boys like him; stupid boys that cared more about work and their studies and didn't open their eyes up to what was happening around them. It was why Soo-min purposefully dated boys she knew Seungho would hate. This was the only way she could get him to pay attention anymore. Seungwon had told her many times that she shouldn't think like that. That she should try to see things from his perspective but she had been understanding for almost two years and now she was fed up.

"It's not like I really believed he was gonna make it this time," she commented in a cold flat tone as she turned back to her closet and reached for a chunky ultramarine blue cable knit sweater that was too big for her petite frame. "He's cancelled on us the last three times so what would make this time any different? It's nothing."

Seungwon didn't believe her and she knew he didn't but neither of them said so aloud. They accepted the lie in silence.

"I was going to meet up with Nakyum later after class. You wanna come? We were going to grab lunch." Studying her expression with a soft smile of his own, Seungwon tilted his head with a click of his tongue. "Come on. It'll be my treat."

Pursing her lips as she weighed her options, Soo-min shrugged. "I suppose it's better than nothing."

Seungwon snorted a laugh. She was such an actress he didn't know why she was going into cinema production and not theater. "I'll meet you at fine arts campus around three-thirty." Closing the small space between them, he kissed her on the cheek then pinched her nose--a habit he had picked up from their brother. "Love ya' Mimi."

"Yeah, yeah. Get out of here before your sappiness makes me puke," she teased dryly.

"'Kay. Later. Get to class safely."

"I will mom."

\---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---

Stumbling over himself as he slipped back into his white sneakers and black jeans, Seungho flipped his wrist over to check the time. If he was fast he could still catch lunch with Seungwon and Mimi. He'd been an ass for the last three weeks and canceled on them at the last minute but it wasn't because he had wanted to. Between studying for his board exams and working nearly every day from sun up to sun down he just did not have the energy in him to go out. It was only on the weeknights when he had Monday evenings and Tuesday mornings free that he went out for drinks and, one occasion, took someone home with him for a stress fuck. 

As heartless as it was, Seungho didn't have time for family or friends or a relationship. He hardly had time to breath let alone function in a social capacity. The other day had had fallen asleep in the shower by accident and woke up slumped against the wall in a ball on the tiled ground with water pouring down his face. He was surprised he hadn't drown since he'd been there for hours.

Patting out the nonexistent wrinkles on his heather gray cashmere sweater, Seungho slipped on his scarf and thick plaid overcoat, grabbed his backpack, and tugged on his beanie and fled the locker room before anyone could ask him to stay longer. Grunting and nodding his goodbyes to his fellow interns who stood there enviously as he left for the day, he stopped at the nurses station to sign off on some charts and lab cultures he had ordered for Mr. Morales in 882 B.

"You're lookin' good kid," Michelle droned with mild playfulness from her seat at the charge nurses desk. Looking up from her phone on which played an endless stream of QVC and HSN, she eyed him up and down. "The bags under your eyes are almost gone ya' know. You getting more sleep?"

"Hardly," Seungho smirked breathlessly as he rushed through the documents as much as he could. "Maybe the cold brought down the puffiness?"

"Likely story. Where you off to for the day? Knocking out at home?"

Seungho gave a short laugh. "Close but no dice. I'm grabbing lunch with my brother and sister."

"Ah, Seungwon and Mimi? How are they? I haven't seen them around in ages," she beamed like a grandmother would while on the phone with her own grandchildren. It was why everyone called Michelle and Jerrie the OR moms. Everyone was their kid and was treated as such whether it was for better or worse. "Where y'all eating?"

"Don't know yet. I bailed on them yesterday when Jhoslyn called out sick and Keikel moved my shift to cover hers but I got out of surgery early so I get to surprise them."

"Awww, what a good brother."

"Shut up, don't patronize me," he joked.

"You're right. You're garbage," she smirked back. "Alright kiddo, get outta here before I chase you out with a broom."

Tossing her a sly wink, he vacated the space before Michelle made good on her promise. The woman had once throttled a coked out gunman that tried holding a patient hostage in the ER. He wouldn't put it past her to actually chase him out of the building with the broom they kept in the linen closet next to the front desk.

Frost biting at his athenian nose as the wind rolled through the cityscape, Seungho checked his watch one more time before rushing across the street when there was a break in traffic. Heading down into the subway, he tapped his card at the turnstile and made his way to his connecting platform. If he was lucky and the trains were on time he'd make it to Seungwon and Mimi's campus with minutes to spare. If not, well, he'd grab something to eat and head home. He was exhausted and sleeping would be ideal but it had been weeks since their last meetup and he felt wretched for how he had left things. Mimi would likely skin him alive when she saw him then cry about it. That was just how she was. Seungwon would undoubtedly be the peaceful moderator. Something he had gotten from their mother. that and her kind earthen eyes.

It was with energy renewed that he hopped onto the subway and thought nothing of the homeless man muttering himself in the corner or the woman clipping her nails next to him. Seungho just slid on his headphones, turned on the music, and let the world fade away for a little bit as he watched the lights of the underground cavern pass him by.

In a flash or what felt as though it had passed by in no time at all, Seungho had arrived at his stop. Excusing himself as he pushed by indigent old men and wary women who guarded themselves, he stepped onto the platform with a heaved sigh. He hated the subway but it was the fastest form of transportation in New York. Aimlessly glancing to the side, he watched in bafflement as a business man in his suit stood there picking his nose then rubbing it with the back of his hand. Disgusted, he cringed as he turned his back--making a mental note to by more hand sanitizer for his backpack on the way home.

Sprinting across the street before the taxi's and black towncars could strike him dead, Seungho came to a slow jog as he made it to the foot of the Tisch School of Arts. Eyes surveying and scrutinizing the flood of students that poured from the front doors as morning classes let out for the day, his smile brightened when he saw Seungwon come out bundled in his favorite navy puffer with a scarf wrapped up to his nose and a thick beanie tugged down over his ears. He never did handle the cold well. Used to sneak into his bedroom and curl up under the blankets next to him whenever the family visited their grandparents in Pyeongchang for Christmas when they were little.

Whistling past his teeth, Seungho waved when Seungwon looked up. Glad to see Mimi at his side, he couldn't help but laugh at the gobsmacked look on their faces. It was reassuring considering he was certain he had both infuriated and letdown his sister and had never been close to living up to his younger brothers expectations since leaving the house almost two years ago. To see them smiling like this was a welcomed change. It made him feel as if there was still a piece of childlike hope left in them all.

"Asshole!" Mimi whined though not without a hug to her brother. "You said you couldn't come," she groused; her voice muffled by the thick tweed of his coat.

Hugging her back, Seungho rested his chin on her head. "The surgery I scrubbed in on finished early."

"You sure you're not gonna pass out on us halfway through lunch?"

"I don't know, maybe." Chuckling when she jabbed him in the ribs, Seungho roughly ruffled her hair knowing how much it annoyed her. Still smiling, he gave his brother a quick hug. "Hey, sorry I didn't tell you I was coming."

"It's fine. You don't mind if my friend from class joins us though right? We didn't know you'd be able to make it so asked him if he was down to join."

"I don't mind. Who's it this time? Tristan or Jake?"

"Uh, neither though I'm surprised you remembered their names. It's my friend from life drawing."

Eyes following to where Seungwon was walking, Seungho was caught off guard by a pair of familiar haunting gold eyes. "No shit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Mood Music for the Chapter**
> 
> -"Back to the Wind" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Fear of Failure" by Sea Wolf  
> -"Stupid" by Ashnikko  
> -"Special" by Ashnikko  
> -"Soft Trees Break the Fall" by Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross  
> -"It Catches Up with You" by Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross


	3. I Am a Tree

............... _one Sunday morning in mid-January_...............

"Move!" Dr. Tk shouted as she, Omari, Saad, and Seungho ran through the halls heading to the elevator. "Out of my way people!"

Jamming the button to close the doors the moment everyone was in, Seungho watched the floors icons light up as they ascended to the top floor. Counting to silently, he took a deep breath in then repeated after the exhale when his heart was still beating too fast. He'd never worked with triage patients before. Didn't expect to have any before he had finished his internship and started his residency. However, unfortunately for them all, there had been an accident with one of the ferry boats heading to Staten Island.

"I wonder how bad it's going to be?" Omari pondered aloud as the seventh floor pinged by on their way to the top.

"Well it's probably not going to be pretty." Saad answered flatly. "There'll be a lot of blood. Maybe some burn victims and amputee's from what I heard. I heard that they're sending over a preg--"

"Saad," Seungho snapped, "shut up."

They fell under a cast of silence until the lift stopped and doors opened onto the top floor with roof access. Air biting cold with winds blowing as they exited the warm halls of the hospital, Seungho lifted a hand to block his eyes from the powerful wind the oncoming helicopter was producing as it aligned itself with the center of the helipad. Then, faster than he could blink, the craft's door slid open and out sprang the EMT, medic, and patient strapped to a gurney in a neck brace with blood pooling in her stomach.

"Patient's name is Farnaz Nazimi, age fifteen, female," the EMT shouted over the whirring of the copter blades--the medic keeping her hands pressed down on the gaping wound. "She sustained multiple lacerations to her arms and legs when she was thrown overboard by the blast and was further impacted by a piece of debris that entered through the torso."

"Shit..." Saad murmured to himself in disbelief when he saw the damage.

Glancing over his shoulder, Seungho wanted to smack the shock out of him but restrained himself. Paying attention to every last piece of information they were given, he thanked the EMT and medic once they had handed the teenager off to them; no doubt so they could return to the crash site and retrieve more people in need. Jumping slightly when he felt a hand grab his wrist, he looked down at the girl--the fear and panic clear in her eartnen eyes as if she were still drowning in the bay.

"Don't worry," he said, lifting the hand she had grabbed on to so that he could smooth the blood soaked hair back from her bruised face. "It's alright. You're safe with us."

\---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---

Hopping from one surgery to the next. Running for blood packs. Assisting down in the pit in the emergency and trauma ward. Battling exhaustion, anxiety, and the near constant urge to vomit when a patient worse than the last showed up. It was all so tiring. So draining as Seungho sat in the quiet hallway by surgical ward lined with freshly cleaned gurneys doing his best to forget the taste of bile in his spit from the last time he had thrown up. It was only three-forty. The day was only half over yet it felt as though he'd ran a marathon and lost.

"You okay?" asked a quiet voice from nearby.

Looking up, Seungho saw Jihwa standing there with hair peeking out from his surgical cap and bags under his eyes.

"Yeah," he answered back; voice rough and raw from talking all day. Sniffling just a little, he cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm fine. What's up?"

"I just wanted to check in on you. I know your last surgery didn't go so well so I thought I'd see if you're alright."

"I'm fine." Looking down at his shoes, Seungho spotted a small splatter of blood on the bottom hem of his scrub pants. "I'm alright."

Not believing a word he said, Jihwa took off his cap then sat down next to Seungho--their shoulders touching and arms brushing. He wouldn't cry in front of him. Jihwa knew Seungho wouldn't because he was too proud; too stubborn and strong to do such a thing. In the six years they'd known each other, his pride was one of the few things that hadn't changed and adapted to the surgical lifestyle. Even so, Jihwa knew Seungho hurt more deeply than others. He'd never tell anyone. Would rather die than voice it aloud because he didn't "know how to be a person" as he had put it once. It was normal though, in their line of work. 

They were surgeons. They didn't do warm and cuddly. They didn't do fake promises or hope that wasn't substantiated. Like all others before them in their profession, they laid it all down at the altar of science and reason. To separate oneself from their emotions--to suspend humanity--was common practice because it kept the mind clear. They could work more efficiently if they detached themselves. Yes, they all still understood that they were operating on people with lives and jobs and loved ones. But they couldn't think about all that when there was a ten-blade in their hand.

Resting his head atop Seungho's when he leaned into Jihwa for support, Jihwa closed his eyes just like Seungho and tried to forget the chaos happening all around them. Tried to forget about the pregnant twenty-six year old woman who died of a pulmonary embolism on the operating table before they had even cracked open her chest cavity. Forgot about her husband and mother who had survived the wreck without more than a few scratches. Jihwa suppressed the urge to cry over the mother in the free clinic where the families where being held clinging to a picture of her ten year old son who was still missing. The boy didn't know how to swim and had fallen over the side of the ferry when it crashed. She had begged Jihwa for news. To tell her that her son was there or at some other hospital and was safe. But he had nothing for her. No news that would soothe her and was made to watch by his own self-deprecation as she broke down into heaving sobs prematurely grieving the loss of her child.

"We're going to be okay," Seungho rasped when he felt Jihwa tremble against him; the onset of tears obvious and imminent. "We'll be okay. We'll--" Pausing when his pager went off, Seungho froze in place. Didn't dare move because it'd mean he'd have to go back to that hell he had just walked out of. ' _They need you. It's your job, you have to go._ ' He didn't want to but what choice was there. Sitting up, he looked at the screen on the device; face going pale and brows pinching as the first scrap of emotion he'd been holding inside finally surfaced. "It's the Nazimi girl. Sorry, I gotta go."

"It's okay." Watching Seungho as he got up and started down the hallway, Jihwa called out to him. "Hey, remember you can call me if you need to later."

Seungho didn't say anything. Just nodded then began running as his pager went off for a second time.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

The silence was deafening as the lead on monitor flat-lined. Staring at the screen, Dr. Kim couldn't wrap his head around what had just happened. The patient was doing fine one moment then began to spiral the next. It didn't make sense. But then again nothing that day had made sense. How did a ferry boat crash in the first place? The fog hadn't been that terrible. There had been mornings where the marine layer had been much more severe and yet there hadn't been a crash. Why now? Why today? What had happened?

"Time of death 17:20 p.m.," Dr. Kim announced as the surgical nurse unplugged and removed the head lamp he was wearing. Frustration boiling over, he yanked off his gloves. "God damnit."

Walking down the hall--his mind tuning everyone out as he passed them by--Dr. Kim took deep measured breaths on his way to the front desk of the surgical ward. Nodding to Jerrie and Michelle as they walked by with the same look of exhaustion on their faces, he reached hi destination with a heavy sigh. He had not had such a horrible day in the last ten years since he had become chief of surgery. Had not seen such shocking and unimaginable chaos since the Twin Towers had come down back during his days as an attending. Taking another deep calculated breath, he could feel the veins in his head pulsing and the tense muscles in his shoulders screaming.

"Chief," Dr. Kiekel called gently from the other end of the desk. "Sir...?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose for a second longer, Dr. Kim forced a slight smile as he looked up. "Yes Dr. Kiekel?"

"Your grandson is here."

"Really?"

"Yes. He said he saw the crash on the news so he decided to bring you food from home."

"That boy," Dr. Kim mused to himself with a more genuine smile painting his face. "Where is he now? I don't see him anywhere."

"He went down to the free clinic to donate blood. He overheard Jerrie and I talking about the shortage so he said he'd help."

"Sounds like something he'd do. Thank you Dr. Kiekel. I think I'm going to take my lunch break now. Tell Emma to page me if there's an emergency with one of my patients."

"I'll let her know."

\--------------------------------------------------

Eyes studying the ceiling with intent, Nakyum winced as the nurse switched out the full blood bag for a fresh one. It was a lucky thing that he had remembered to eat both breakfast and lunch that day otherwise he would have passed out already. Usually he forgot one or the other. Sometimes he skipped both. It wasn't often. Only happened when he was on a time crunch for a project or was having a panic attack. He never ate when those hit. Hated the taste of anything that wasn't water when his mind was reeling and his body was in shambles. But today wasn't one of those days.

Looking down as his blood flowed through the tube and into the empty bag for collection, his golden gaze wandered without purpose. Danced around on the linoleum floor for a brief moment before it bucked up the courage to lift higher. Everything had faded into the background after the first half hour he had been there. The crying and quiet prayers. The yelling between couples and the blank stares from their children. Nakyum couldn't hear the the voices of the doctors as they shouted over the masses when they came to the clinic to give an update on the lost, the found, and the deceased. He couldn't hear the sirens of the ambulances outside. 

Nothing reached him in the small safe bubble he had forcibly erected around himself. It was a defense mechanism he had using since youth. A way of tuning out the bad so that it wouldn't come back to haunt him later like the things he hadn't blocked out did. It had served him well so far. Had helped him get through the loss of his mother and grandmother and the first four years of university. It didn't always work now that he was in his masters program but breaking down two or three times a semester wasn't too bad when compared to how bad things could be. He had survived breakups and worse. Had lived through living breathing nightmares because of his ability to go numb. It was an effective tool except when it wasn't though it usually was. Almost always was.

Looking away from the little blonde girl who he had been watching as she watched him, Nakyum smiled when Michelle and Jerrie dropped in to say hello. They had been surgical nurses for as long as he'd been alive and had worked with his grandfather for many years. When he was young--too young to have any business nosing around a surgical ward--his grandfather would bring him to work on Bring Your Child To Work Day and let him watch from the viewing room as he performed a menagerie of surgeries. And every time Grandpa Ahn scrubbed in, Jerrie and Michelle were right there with him. They were like mothers to him. Sweet and doting but strict when it came to his health. It was why they always insisted on lecturing him about his eating and sleeping habits whenever he visited the hospital.

"I swear honey, you get skinnier every time I see you," Michelle said with a slight chuckle though there was no humor to be found in her eyes. "How's school?"

"It's fine. I finished a project recently so that's why I hadn't been eating as much." It was a lie. They didn't know it was but he did. Or at least he hoped they didn't.

"How's that professor of yours? Professor Hung?"

Nakyum's throat went tight at the mention of his name. "Professor Jung. He's fine. He actually got married a month ago so..."

Looking between Michelle and Nakyum, Jerrie cleared her throat with a smile. "Well we got to head out. Take care of yourself Nakyum, alright?"

"I will." Hugging them both he clung to the warmth for a second more before letting them go. "See ya'." Watching the two women as they faded into the sea of bodies inside the clinic, his expression fell though only briefly until he spotted his grandfather. "Grandpa!"

"I was told you were down here," the chief smiled as he wrapped his arms in a tight loving hug around his grandson. "Did you eat today? You shouldn't be donating blood if you haven't."

"Yeah I ate. I actually came to make sure you had something to eat," Nakyum answered; almost with a giggle as he reached for the lunch bag he had made for his grandfather. Handing it to him, he smiled. "It's a chicken caprese panini with a chop salad and mixed fruit."

Beyond words, Dr. Kim reached out a hand to ruffle the boys hair. "Always looking out for me, aren't you?"

"It's just lunch grandpa. If I didn't make you food you'd order takeout or something that's bad for your heart."

The chief snorted a short laugh. "True. You heading home after this?"

Nakyum nodded with a tired smile. "Yeah. I spent most of the day helping Seungwon with his project. The exhibition is coming up at the end of the month and he still hasn't painted his second piece or mounted his first so I was helping him find a frame that would work for the painting he already completed."

"Okay. Well text me when you get home. There was a break in down the street at the Cho's and you know that I already worry about you as it is."

"I will."

"Alright," Dr. Kim smiled softly as he smoothed a hand over the top of his grandson's head.

"Alright."

Looking at the boy a moment longer--looking into those bright amber eyes that so greatly resembled his daughters, the chief kissed his forehead with the lunch bag in hand. "Remember to let me know when you get home."

"I will."

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

He couldn't take another moment of this. Couldn't handle another death, another parent asking why, or another husband yelling at him to do better. Couldn't take another flatline, another crash cart, another hysterical mother, another cracked chest cavity, another broken skull, broken bones, another fractured spine, a skin graph, another burn victim. Seungho couldn't do it and by the end of his shift he was running on borrowed energy. He hadn't been able to eat more than a protein bar because anything else would make him sick. The smell of flesh cooked by crude oil and dirty bay water clung to the inside of his nose while the frightened eyes of patients staring up at him from the gurneys burned into his brain.

Jihwa had come through for him and volunteered to cover the rest of his shift since he had clocked in five hours after Seungho had. Changing into his black sweats, t-shirt, and hoodie, he raked both gently trembling hands through his long hair--digging his nails into the back of his head above his neck while resting his forehead against the locker door. Taking a deep breath, he held it for twelve second then breathed out; repeating the process a second and third time the same way he had been doing all day. He counted a fourth time and a fifth with his heart still stuttering and ears ringing. It was only on the sixth count that he calmed down and on the seventh that his heart rate returned to normal.

"Okay, okay," he whispered under his breath with his head hung and eyes closed. "It's okay. Okay, okay, okay..."

The murmuring continued with him leaning even more against the lockers until the majority of his weight was supported by the metal installation. Repeating the words to himself over and over until he believed them, Seungho hissed with a deep inhale--his back and neck aching miserably and head throbbing from the incessant headache that had been dogging him all day. He could feel the pressure of it behind his eyes and balling up at the base of his head where it met his neck. His stomach demanded that he eat but between the anxiety and the headache he wasn't sure if he could keep anything down.

Groaning as he bent over to tug his sneakers on by the back tags, Seungho pulled his hair back into a haphazard bun which he hid under a slouch beanie then the hood on for his hoodie. Slipping on his leather jacket, he slung the strap of his backpack over his shoulder then left the locker room. He was supposed to grab lunch with Seungwon and Mimi tomorrow but wasn't sure he could make it with the sorry state he'd likely be in the following morning.

' _They're gonna kill me if I bail,_ ' he thought to himself; jerking his chin in goodbye to anyone that called his name on the way out. ' _I really am a piece of shit brother. But I got to sleep._ '

Stepping outside--the cold and snow biting at his cheeks and nose--Seungho was aloof for a moment; taking in the fresh air for the first time that day and marvelling at how still the world around him seemed to be. Closing his eyes, he smiled at the sensation of snowflakes landing on his eyelids and lips. Breathing easy with a small smile on his face, it twisted into a look of mild disbelief when he opened his eyes and found Nakyum sitting on one of the benches just outside the staff entrance. Even stranger was it when the kid looked up with glassy eyes and smiled.

"You're everywhere, you know," Seungho pointed out. "What are you doing here?"

Staring at Seungho for a moment, Nakyum smirked awkwardly; his gaze returning to his shoes. "My grandfather works here and I was dropping off food for him."

Observing him for a minute, Seungho noticed the hand the young man was pressing to the bend of his left arm. "You hurt?"

"Huh?" Nakyum looked at him then at his arm where Seungho was looking. "O-Oh, uh, no. I donated blood when I heard there was a shortage."

"That was nice of you."

Nakyum shrugged.

"How long ago did you donate?"

"About an hour ago."

"And you're still here? How much did you give?"

Nakyum gnawed on his bottom lip. "A little over the max amount. I'm AB negative and it's a hard blood type to come by. I just wanted to help."

Staring down at Nakyum, Seungho gave a deep sigh before telling him to move over. Sitting down next to the young man, he flipped over a hand in silent command.

"Let me see your arm," Seungho said; it not a request. Watching as he removed his jacket--which Seungho quickly took and placed over his slim shoulders--he waited for him to roll up the sleeves of his sweater, shirt, and thermal. "You must get cold easily," he teased, loving the embarrassed blush that dusted Nakyum's fair cheeks. Peeking under the bandage he'd been wrapped with, Seungho arched a brow. "Well it's going to suck using this arm tomorrow because you're going to have a bruise the size of a baseball but you'll live. How much did you eat today? Did you have any caffeinated drinks or take any blood thinners like tylenol?" 

"I ate twice and only had water today."

"What'd you eat?"

"A full breakfast and then I had udon downtown for lunch."

Seungho smirked. He probably went with Seungwon because his brother was obsessed with udon. "Well you'll be fine. Just make sure you have plenty of vegetables and fruits in the coming days so that you can replenish what you lost."

Nakyum laughed under his breath. "Okay."

"What?"

"Nothing. It's just...You just sound like a doctor right now. I feel like I'm getting lectured by my GP."

"Maybe that's because I am a doctor."

"W-What?"

Removing his badge from his jacket pocket, Seungho let Nakyum hold it for a moment; he finding the look of awe and mild disbelief entertaining and oddly satisfying. "I'm a surgical intern right now but I'll be a resident after finishing my board exams this spring."

"That's amazing." Brain reeling for a moment, the harsh reality of the days events suddenly came crashing down on him the longer he stared at Seungho's badge. "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"Today must have been awful for you. My grandfather said there were over seven losses and five are still in critical care. It must not have been easy dealing with all of that."

Licking his lips before pressing them into a flat line, Seungho pushed his hands into his jacket pockets and looked up at the street lamps. "It was like living out a nightmare," he answered--voice clear and honest. "I didn't expect to see something like this until much later on in my career. I'd never even triaged someone before nor had I been trained in that yet and today I was given a crash course in what to do then flung into the pit. It was the worst situation to be in." Glancing at Nakyum who was looking down again, he noted the rosiness of his cheeks and the slope of his nose and the fullness of his lashes. "But I'm grateful I was able to help the people I could. The hard part about surgery is that we all have God complexes to some degree and believe we can save everyone. It's hard when you can't. It's the worst feeling when you have to let one go. But it's worth it when you can; when you can save someone."

Smiling when Nakyum smiled, Seungho sat there in a comfortable silence soaking in the warm glow of the street lamps and the sound of buses and cars passing by. There were shoes crunching in the snow as people walked by and the near distant howl of a dog calling to another; them singing together against the backdrop of constant noise generated by the lively city.

"You hungry?"

"What?" Nakyum said, lifting his head for the first time since they had stopped talking minutes ago.

"I haven't eaten all day and I could really go for some Thai but I don't feel like going by myself." Looking over Nakyum's expression as his cheeks flushed more, Seungho smiled. "Please?"

Lost for words when their eyes met, Nakyum couldn't help the awkward smile that peeled across his face. "Sure. Have any places in mind?"

"I've got a few."

"Cool."

Seungho just smiled. "Cool."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there y'all!
> 
> Sorry I've been MIA for a while. These last two weeks I've been dealing with a lot and wasn't able to finish this chapter when I hoped I would. My mother's been in the hospital for a bad kidney and my dog has just been put on chemo so it's been a lot to handle especially with my classes piled on top. But I'm back writing. I don't have a set update schedule for this fic right now but I'm going to try to update every two weeks or so. That's the tentative schedule at least so it may change. 
> 
> But yeah, thank you for dropping in and for reading. Your comments and encouragement really help to keep me motivated and provide great feedback.
> 
> Stay lovely and stay freaky,
> 
> -Mars-Sunday


	4. Aphrogenia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Don't go_   
>  _Pandemos, fill of me_   
>  _I never meant to do harm to you, to love_   
>  _Go slow_   
>  _Pandemos, fill of me_   
>  _I never meant to do harm to you, to love_
> 
> -Sufjan Stevens, _Venus_

............... _a Friday afternoon_february_...............

"Okay, here's an easy one," Miranda said with a satisfied smack of her lips after finishing off her beer to pick up the flashcards she had sat down on the coffee table next to her. "What are the six W's of post-op fever and which two are most commonly misdiagnosed?"

"Wound, water, walking, wind, wonder drugs, and waves," Seungho shoot back quickly with a little smirk curling the corners of his lips. "Patients are commonly misdiagnosed with wonder drug related fevers or 'wind' for pneumonia. If diagnosed with walking or wound treatment should be rapid and immediate or sepsis may occur. Because of this all post-op patients should be monitored for a minimum of five hours for out-patient procedures and forty-eight hours for those who have undergone invasive surgical procedures."

Miranda snorted a laugh. "Yet another flawless response from the brain child. It's no wonder you were top of your class."

"Yeah but what he has in brilliance he's lacking in social skills," Saad joked from across the living room as he came back in from the kitchen with a plate stacked with pizza and salad. Flopping down on the couch with a muted thud, he sat down his bottle of Modelo so that he could take a bite from a veggie lover's slice. "Ask me one now," he said with his mouth half full.

Staring at him with a humored look in his eyes, Seungho glanced to Miranda who was holding out the cards to him then back to Saad. "Okay, here's one. You have a patient in their mid-twenties that is suffering from gran mal seizures with no history of epilepsy or physical trauma and her charts and EKG's all came back clear. How do you proceed?"

Pausing mid-chew, Saad sighed through his nose. "I hate you."

Seungho just smirked.

"Fine. How do I proceed?"

"Yup, where do you go from there?"

Taking a long moment to rifle through what he knew and what the diagnosis could be, Saad pondered the question. "I would order an MRI because it could be a brain aneurysm. She has no prior history of epilepsy and her age rules out age related stroke."

"Is that your final answer?"

Staring down Seungho over the rim of his gold-wired box frame glasses, Saad nodded with folded arms. "Yup, that's my answer."

"Then you're patient lives to fight another day."

"I was right?"

Seungho nodded as he laid down on though not before throwing a pillow at Saad. "Yup, it was a ruptured aneurysm."

"Alright pretty boy, here's one," Kat chirped with a wicked smile from her seat on the chaise across from Seungho and Miranda. "When do you use an imbricating continuous stitch and why?"

"You mean the Lembert stitch?"

Kat nodded with a cat-like grin as she popped a grape into her mouth.

"You would use it for internal procedures like intestinal bowl surgeries to join the serosal and muscular layers while inverting the lips of the seams."

"And why do we use it?"

Tilting his head up from the pillow, Seungho shrugged. "It's...more effective. I don't know, we just do."

"Ha!" Saad erupted almost triumphantly. "So there is something you don't know."

Rolling her eyes, Kat answered. "We use it because it doesn't involve the mucosa which decreases the chances of infection and contamination."

"Yeah, but it still causes stenosis to the organs."

"You can't win 'em all Yoon," Miranda noted; her mouth once again full with salad chipmunked into her freckled cheeks. "There's always a risk of stenosis when performing laparoscopic procedures. Just check the organ a minute after you finish the suture to make sure it's still pink. If it's pale then you made it too tight."

"You're too tight," he snickered teasingly; throwing a strawberry from his plate at her--laughing when Miranda caught it with her mouth. "I really just want this exam to be over. All we've been doing is studying and working."

"Yeah, I've hardly had any time to sleep let alone do chores around the apartment," Saad added.

Kat nodded with an expression that made it seem as if she were caught in a daze. "I haven't done laundry in a week and last night I fell asleep in the shower." When the room went silent, Kat looked up then furrowed her brows. "What?"

Seungho snorted a laugh; laying his head back down on his pillow with arms folded over his chest. "Nothing."

"Yeah, nothing huh?"

He just lazily shook his head. "Seriously though, when all of this is over I'm going into hibernation for a week. I have bags under my under-eye bags."

"Ass, you look fine," Miranda contested with a smack to his thigh before joining him on the floor--her head resting on his hip. "I'm flying back to LA to visit my parents when this is over and maybe crying in the shower."

"Don't you already cry in the shower?" Kat asked her roommate of three years despite already knowing the answer.

"Yeah but I'm going to cry in the shower at my parents house. There's a difference."

"I don't see any difference between either of those scenarios," Saad interjected.

"There's an emotional difference."

"How?"

"There just is," Miranda insisted with her hands lifted to the heavens as if to punctuate her words. "There's a difference."

"Alright, calm down kitten," Seungho shushed her with a pat to the redhead's crown.

Eyeing him from across the coffee table, Kat studied Seungho's expression as he stared up at the ceiling; his eyes flickering shut after a quiet moment. "So I heard you're friends with the chief's grandson."

His eyes open and darted to where she was sitting. "What?"

"Chief Kim. I heard you're friend's with his grandson."

"I mean, I know the guy. Why?"

"Just wondering. I heard he's really pretty though and shit." Shrugging nonchalantly, she added, "I'm going into plastics after all and people say he's got an almost perfectly symmetrical face. I was just wondering if it's true."

Looking at her for a long moment with a dichotomous expression of both confusion and humor, Seungho rolled his eyes before letting his head fall back onto the pillow. "Yeah, I guess he's got a good face." Thinking back to the last time he saw Nakyum, it was strange how vividly he could recall the kid's contenance. "He has big round eyes with long lashes and soft cheekbones. No blemishes or freckles but he has a small beauty mark under his left eyebrow. Heart-shaped face with a pointed chin and full lips," he trailed off as the memory of Nakyum smiling flickered past his eyes. "I suppose he is pretty."

Looking between Saad and Miranda then back to Seungho, Kat couldn't help the knowing smile tugging at her lips. "Well if it's cool with you I'd like to meet him."

Seungho shrugged. "Sure. It's not like I'm his keeper or anything."

"But you guys hangout."

"Once in a while. Why are we talking about him again?"

"Because she thinks you should bone him," Saad answered flatly. They all knew what Kat was hinting at. She had never liked Jihwa. None of them did. But Kat was the only person with the stones to tell Seungho that his fuck buddy was a piece.

"I'm not going to fuck the chief's grandson. That's career suicide."

"Whatever," she sighed. "We all know you want to."

"And all of you are wrong."

"Uh huh," Kat and Miranda said in unison while Saad refrained from commenting. He knew better than to involve himself in someone else's lovelife.

Gaze fixed to the ceiling, Seungho let their words roll off his shoulders. They didn't know anything and he wanted to keep it that way. The last thing he needed was for his life to get anymore complicated than it already was. Things were fine the way they were now. Everything was perfect the way it was.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"...Kyum...." called a voice. "....Kyum....?"

Nakyum couldn't tell where it was coming from but ignored it as his hand continued to move the brush across the canvas.

"Nakyum!"

Snapping to attention, he whipped his head to the side nearly jumping when he saw Professor Jung at his side--their faces close with the professor's hand on his shoulder.

"S-Sorry, I was distracted," Nakyum stammered; his eyes anxiously searching for something to focus on; anything so long as it wasn't Professor Jung's face. "Is something wrong?" he asked, words gracelessly tumbling from his lips as he bored holes into the canvas with his intense gaze.

"I'm going to be locking up the studios soon. You should be heading home soon anyways. You live far away, correct?"

Nodding, Nakyum faked a polite smile--his body screaming quietly all the while. "Yeah. Thank you for letting me know."

Glancing to the painting his student had been focusing on with such intent, Inhun bit back what he wanted to say and smiled instead. "It's coming along beautifully. I hope it's done in time for the next exhibition."

Chest heavy and throat tight, Nakyum fought to maintain his upbeat facade. "It will be," he said; looking up at Professor Jung despite how much it hurt to look at him--how much it hurt to see the faint leftover of the hickey his wife had made on his neck and the platinum wedding band on his finger. "You won't be giving the opening night speech, will you?"

"Of course I will. Why wouldn't I?"

Nakyum flattened his lips into a tight smile and shrugged. "No reason. You swapped off with Professor Melody a couple times last semester and over the summer so I just thought it was a thing now."

"Well this semester I'm opening all the exhibitions. Don't tell me you don't want your professor there?"

Forcing a laugh, he hated how awkward it sounded. "No, of course not."

"Good. Anyway, you should head out before it gets any later."

"Thank you Professor Jung."

"Of course Nakyum." 

Meekly and discreetly, Nakyum watched as Inhun lingered there at his side for a moment--cold eyes appraising his work before giving him a cryptic smile in return. Turning away, the professor left with a final nod to his student. Nakyum didn't move. Couldn't move until he had vanished down the hall and his shadow had disappeared from sight. Only then did his spirit waiver. Heart crumbling and chest wrangling the last breath of air from his lungs, Nakyum could feel the panic taking hold. Could feel the world spiraling away and the ground dropping out from his feet. Legs jiggling with trembling hands raking through his hair as he buckled over, Nakyum couldn't breath. Couldn't think. Couldn't feel anything except for this darkness that always seemed to get the jump on him when he least expected it.

" _It's okay Nakyum,_ " spoke a voice. He wasn't sure if it was in his head or if someone was there. But the moment he heard it Nakyum felt a warmth run through him. " _It's going to be alright. Just breathe._ "

"I c-can't breathe. I-I--"

" _Yes you can. Just listen to me._ " He could feel soft strong hands place themselves on top of his on either side of his head. The heat felt so real that, as he closed his crying eyes, he could have sworn that someone was right there with him. " _Just breathe in for me Nakyum. Can you do that?_ "

He shook his head; tears staining the fabric of his pants on his knees. Concentrating on their soothing voice as it echoed closely in his ears, he took a deep breath in when they counted down to three and held it for twelve seconds; exhaling then repeating the process a second, third, and forth time. With every breath and sigh he felt himself unwind. Felt his body relax and his heart leveling. Could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end with the sweet encouragement and the pit of his stomach knot at the sound of their gentle chuckling. 

Consumed by the warm waves crashing over him, it filled him with a strange new type of loneliness when he looked up and found that he was all alone. Eyes drawn upwards to the Japanese inspired painting of lovers entwined that sat before him on its easel, Nakyum's momentarily high spirits deflated. He was still alone. No one had come. No one had been sitting with him. ' _No one cares,_ ' a little voice told him. Looking to the windows as the February snow came down in featherlight puffs, all the warmth that had welled up inside him fled--replaced by the biting cold that came with the realization that he was alone.

Sitting in silence with the glow of the studio lights and the hallway fluorescents lighting the space, Nakyum quietly packed his school bag and slipped on his wool sweater and puffer. Rising to his feet, he looked back at the painting one last time--feeling more hollow the longer he gazed at the naked forms melting into one another. Flicking of the lights, he left

Drifting through the vacant halls like a shadow on the wall, Nakyum was the last student to leave again. He was always the last to leave and the first to arrive in the morning. Practically lived in his studio--painting like an idiot until the sun went down. That's how he saw it. A fool that could easily paint scenes of love and blissful euphoria though he had not once felt such a thing. Ironic was it that he could only observe and never experience it. It was a funny sort of curse to have. He'd only ever suffered at the hands of his partners whether it be physically or emotionally. Perhaps he was projecting. Obsessing over the one thing he wanted most; for someone to care. For someone to give a damn. Someone who'd notice if he stopped existing.

Too numb to feel the sting of the cold as he stepped outside onto the steps of the front entrance, Nakyum had to repeat his breathing exercises just to keep himself from falling apart. It had to get better. Things couldn't stay this way forever. He knew it was a lie. Knew that, with his luck, things would just get worse the same way they always did but these little lies were how Nakyum got through his days. They were harmless little white lies. What harm could they do to anyone but him?

"Hey," called a voice; one he had sworn he had heard minutes ago.

Looking up, Nakyum saw Seungho standing there on the steps below wearing his usual black pants, striped sweater, and jacket; his beanie tugged down over his ears like always with his long hair in an unkempt bun that slouched over his shoulder. Lips twitching into a awkward smile before disappearing completely, Nakyum struggled to find words--any words. The last thing he needed was to look like an idiot on top of everything else.

"H-Hey." What was he? A parrot? Kicking himself mentally for the unintelligible reply, Nakyum hissed in silence to himself while cramming both hands into his pockets. "Seungwon isn't out of his art history lecture until nine-thirty-five tonight." Sniffling back the tears he had been fighting the whole way down, he looked up from his shoes when Seungho didn't answer. "Or are you h-here for Mimi?"

"Neither," Seungho admitted almost breathlessly; his gaze holding Nakyum's as the snow fell between them. "I was thinking and wound up here."

"You just wandered over here for no reason?"

"Not like it's far from my place," he chuckled; the sound pleasantly resonating in Nakyum's ears as the distance between the closed with every step Seungho took. Looking up at the buildings facade frozen with ice hanging from its eaves, he then turned his attention back to the painter whose gaze had once more fallen to the ground. "What's wrong?"

Nakyum bit his lip and forced a smile. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"Fine is dirty four letter word that starts with an 'F'." When Nakyum only turned his head away, Seungho tilted his down; hating it the more he avoided him. When it proved to be of little use, he straightened out yet ever did his eyes leave Nakyum's form. "I was going to grab a drink," Seungho spoke; his voice abruptly cutting into the silence that divided them. "Maybe some food too. You want to come?"

Gaze lifting, Nakyum could only stare at him--awestruck by the offer as if it had slapped him.

"Don't overthink it," Seungho smiled in a way that he could; it teasing out the elusive dimples in his cheeks that only appeared when he was smiling genuinely. Jerking his chin towards the steps heading down, his eyes sparked beneath the warm lamp glow. "Lets go." And it was without much thought or care that Nakyum returned his smile and followed.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been months--or years perhaps--since Nakyum had laughed so hard. Since he had smiled without it hiding a part inside of him that was hurting. It had been so long since he had last felt human; really and actually human. Maybe it was the alcohol that was to blame as it warmed his veins. Or perhaps it was the full stomach of delicious food that was suspect as he he sat on the sofa with Seungho watching _What We Do In The Shadows_ on Hulu. There were a million things it could have been but only one thing he was certain was amplifying it.

Laughing so hard that his cheeks hurt, he fell against the armrest for support. It was strange. Peculiar almost how he had known Seungwon for longer yet held nothing back when he was in the company of his friends' brother. A brother who knew little about him yet never judged him or pitied him. He just sat there patiently waiting for him to breathe the morning after they had first met. Since then he had continued on with his patience. Had extended it along with a silent unspoken kindness that was neither patronizing nor contingent on something else. Seungho was genuine. Real and accepting of his flaws and strengths. He was what Nakyum hoped to be someday. Bold and unashamed in comparison to his crippling meekness and awkward tendencies.

"I...I can't believe that they believed that...that that guy could bring Topher back to life," Nakyum laughed.

"And the license plate keychains," Seungho added; he too falling into stitches of laughter.

"And the license plates!" Wheezing from laughing so hard, he rolled over onto his other side; his head bumping against Seungho's shoulder. "The necromancer has a gift shop and...and zombies working in the basement."

"I think my favorite part is when it showed all the ways the different familiars died."

"You know, I feel really bad for Guillermo who has to put up with all the familiars dying and his masters being idiots," Nakyum snorted a chuckle. Lying on his back, he looked up at Seungho with a teary eyed smile and flushed cheeks. "Like, could you imagine dealing with that every day?"

"Fuck no," Seungho smirked wickedly. "I'd rather be the guy that accidentally shot himself while cleaning the display gun."

"Oh my God." Bursting into hysterics again, Nakyum covered his face with his palms though it did little to stop his laughter. "That is so like you."

"What is?"

"To..To say y-you'd rather be shot point blank than be...than be someone's manservant."

"Really?"

"Uh huh?"

"You really think that?" Seungho teased; his face dusted the lightest shade of peony from all he'd had to drink that night. Tickling Nakyum's sides with his bottom lip bit between his teeth, he grinned. "You wanna know what I think?"

Nakyum fidgeted in his grasp though the smile never once left his lips.

Staring down at the painter--cheeks pink with long lashes dusting his fair skin and silken black hair spilling over his forehead, Seungho leaned over; his lips brushing his ear. "I think you'd do the same. That we're the same."

Heart stuttering in his chest, Nakyum swallowed back the gasp that had caught in his throat. "You think so?"

"Yeah," Seungho smiled to himself, not even thinking of his answer. He was to entranced by the mysterious yet pleasing smell wafting off of Nakyum's hair. "I think so."

Daring to peek, Nakyum looked up at Seungho--his nerves catching fire and body abuzz as their eyes met and noses bumped. He was close. So painfully close that Nakyum became immensely aware of how beautiful the man was. He hadn't really thought about it before. Not to say that he didn't know; he did know. He'd have to be blind not to. But he hadn't given it much thought. Hadn't really looked at Seungho in that light because he was Seungwon and Soo-mi's older brother.

"Older brother's are off limits," Nakyum whispered to himself; not registering that he had said it aloud. Giggling behind closed lips when Seungho's long hair danced across his cheeks, Nakyum reached up to touch it. "How is it so soft?"

Eyes swimming with nothing but Nakyum's loveliness, Seungho closed the space between them--their lips coming together and mouths accepting of the embrace. "How are your lips so soft?" he countered; his voice just above a whisper.

Dizzy from the touch and the lingering taste Seungho's tongue left in his mouth--it tasting of Bailey's and coffee--Nakyum reached up and placed his hands on either side of Seungho's face to bring him back down. Kissing him again, Nakyum opened his mouth in invitation. An invitation Seungho gladly and eagerly accepted--his tongue overtaking Nakyum's--dominating him in the most wonderful of ways while he tangled his fingers into his long waves.

Without breaking the spell, Nakyum sat up then fumbled onto his knees as he sat astride Seungho. He needed to be closer. Needed his warmth to overwhelm him--to fill him up until he couldn't feel anything else. He wanted him to occupy every inch of his waking mind. To push back the dark and give him nothing but light. Parting briefly so that Seungho could remove his sweater, he took command of Seungho's lips with a feverish greed. A thirst that he couldn't explain or understand.

"Tell me if you want to stop," Seungho breathed as he mapped kisses and bites down Nakyum's elegant neck.

"W-Why would I tell you to s-stop?" Nakyum asked; too blissed out of his mind to care what was happening.

"Because we're both drunk." Panting, Seungho paused with his head resting in the crook of Nakyum's neck. "Maybe we should stop. This isn't---"

"No," Nakyum protested. Coherent enough to understand what was now being proposed, he took Seungho's face in his hands; one moving up and through his hair in one long stroke. "Don't stop. P-Please? Don't stop. I want this."

"Nakyum..."

"Please?" he beseeched with his fingers teasing Seungho's scalp and neck. Cheeks brushing and nose sweetly nudging against the lobe of his ear, Nakyum kissed his temple. "Please Seungho?"

Unable to stop himself as his body soaked in every touch and coo of his name, Seungho took a deep breath as he let go of reason. "Is this what you want? Are you sure?"

Smiling, Nakyum whispered "Yes" against his ear before kissing it.

"Fine." Hooking his arms around Nakyum's waist and left thigh, he stood up with a stunted grunt. "And I'm not going to regret this in the morning."

Nakyum smirked. "Neither am I."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to take this moment to thank my readers for all the support and kindness y'all have given me. It's hard sitting down and tuning everything out so that I can write fics but your words of encouragement keep me going. So thank you my freaky darlings and I'll see y'all in the next installment. <3
> 
> \----------------------------------------------------
> 
> * _Note: the chapter title "Aphrogenia" is an epithet or moniker for Venus/Aphrodite, the goddess of love, beauty, pleasure, passion, procreation, fertility, desire, prosperity, and victory. I leave the deciphering of it's meaning in regards to this chapter up to you, my readers._


	5. Wisteria and Bleeding Hearts

............... _Early Saturday Evening__late february_...............

He could see it in the painting as the gallery hands lifted it into position on the pristinely painted stark white wall. Could see the ghosts of that night he had spent with Seungho tangled in with the branch bodies bursting with flowers as they twined together in a silent yet sensual embrace. Hearts made of violets splattered with purple, pastel pink, white, aegean blue, and glittering gold caged behind ribs of woven grapevines and lips like berries with spider lily eyelashes fluttering, it was a fever dream Nakyum had dreamt over the course of several nights then painted in an insomnia-induced delirium in just a few days. He couldn't remember what brand of paints he used, the brushes, or type of scraper he had apparently used along the stems and thorns of the roses that constructed the spines of both figures. Couldn't recall if he had woken up and painted the piece or if he was still half asleep when he had taken brush to canvas. It was all a blur.

A rosey yet prickly horribly beautiful dream that both delighted and frightened him because Nakyum didn't know where to go from there. Didn't know what to do the next time they saw each other because he had snuck out that night while Seungho was still asleep. God, he was so beautiful when he slept. So striking yet peaceful with his sharp features relaxed and hair cascading over his fair shoulders and back in torrents like black ink split across the page. So handsome that Nakyum had spent a half hour studying Seungho in his sleep before slipping out from under the warmth of his strong arms and chest.

Gazing up at the painting as it hung under the display light Nakyum's eyes were transfixed on the lips of the lovers--berries and cherries and wine both plump and tempting to bite into. A shiver ran through him. The same shiver that rolled down his spine and through his fingers and toes after each climax. How many times had they recklessly crashed their bodies together? How many times had he shamelessly moaned Seungho's name? And how many times had Seungho growled Nakyum's with a possessive bite to his chest or neck with every release? 

The pink trails his blunt nails had left on the sculpted flat of Seungho's back. The sweat beading on their skin. The lick of saliva left from Seungho's lips as they travelled from his neck to his chest to his navel and beyond. Had all of it been captured? Was it too obvious or too vague? Were the metaphorical butterflies Nakyum had felt in his stomach as he was slowly--teasingly--undressed and appraised with worshipping eyes conveyed in the blue and white swallowtail butterflies that fluttered out of the smaller figures empty abdomen? Would they feel what he felt? Or would it be lost in a dream the same way it had been for Nakyum when he awoke the next morning adorned with petal pink bruises, bites, sore hips, and a partially completed memory of the encounter?

Pressing his palms together in a line beneath his nose, Nakyum's brows furrowed. Perhaps he should have stuck with the original piece he had submitted. It was not as celebrated as this work by his professors and peers but it was more in keeping with what he usually painted. Or perhaps that is why those who were in charge of the art selection chose this painting that had been created in the eleventh hour rather than his dreamscape mural of downtown. This was chaotic. Stunning and arresting and unpredictable in its lines and bursts of color. It was primal yet delicate. Voyeuristic but intimate. The sum was a contradiction of its parts the same way incomplete dreams were both maddening and ceaseless in their intrigue.

"Nadia told me your submission had changed at the last minute but," Seungwon trailed as he walked up to Nakyum and stood beside him with awestruck eyes studying the painting in depth, "I never would have believed this one was yours had I not seen your signature on it." Falling into silence, his golden gaze travelled along the lines and dips of the figures with wonder. "How did you even...?"

"I don't know," Nakyum admitted quietly. He couldn't look at the painting for long. Felt too guilty with his friend--Seungho's brother--standing next to him. "It just kinda happened. I feel like I blacked out for three days and when I came to it was just there in the studio."

"So weird."

"Yeah, really weird."

Sneaking a quick glance at Nakyum from the corner of his eye, Seungwon's brows knitted together though minutely. Nakyum hadn't been his usual self in weeks. Maybe it was because of the painting and the emotional and mental strain it had caused him. But looking at the piece Seungwon would have expected the inspiration to be more joyous than draining. Perhaps he was remembering someone he had lost when he painted it. Maybe a former flame or his first love?

Tongue timidly licking his wind chapped lips caked in chapstick, Seungwon sighed in silence to himself. "You got anyone coming to the exhibition?"

Nakyum stared at the painting and shrugged. "Just the usual group. Grandpa, Jerrie and Michelle. Maybe Sorsha if she's back in town. You?"

"Mimi said she'd be here." Snorting an incredulous laugh to himself with a humored expression as a brow arched and his head shook, Seungwon clicked his tongue. "I doubt she cares much about my work though. You know she's been carrying a torch for you for ages even though she won't admit it, right?"

Nakyum sighed a groan with a sympathetic smile; shaking his head as a second rolling sigh heaved through him. "She knows I'm gay right."

"Yeah."

Nakyum laughed.

"She knows nothing will ever happen. It's kinda sad to watch because she just sparks around you."

"Yeah well I can relate to some extent."

Seungwon resisted the urge to press the matter any further. Refused to let his natural curiosity get the best of him. "Can't we all?"

Nakyum laughed again. "I guess. What about your dad? Is he coming?"

"No. No he's not."

"You must be relieved."

Pressing his lips into a tight line, Seungwon's gaze fell to his shoes; legs anxiously shifting his weight from one leg to the other. "Maybe. He's never been an outspoken fan of my career choice. I think he's disappointed in all of his children to be honest but so is every Korean mother and father when their kids don't become doctors or lawyers."

"Seungho is going to be a surgeon though."

"Yeah but that doesn't count because my dad wanted him to be a lawyer and get married and have five kids and live in the family house in the Hamptons." Exhaling his stress, Seungwon counted down from three in his head before speaking. "But no, my dad isn't coming and yes, I'm kinda happy about it."

"Kinda happy?"

"Really happy."

Looking away from Seungwon's profile outlined in warm golden lamplight, Nakyum gnawed on his inner cheek while swallowing down the seed of guilt that tried to come back up. "I-Is your brother coming?"

"Seungho?" Seungwon sighed again; it sounding more dismal this time as he shoved his fidgeting hands into his coat pockets. "No. His surgical board exam was yesterday and today so he probably won't make it."

"You never know though. He may make it near the end."

Seungwon scoffed. "I wouldn't count on it. He was probably up every night studying for the past two weeks. He goes kind of manic when it comes to school and studying. Like he turns into a basketcase for seven days leading up to the exam then crashes hard afterwards and sleeps for days. That's just how he is." Laughing to himself as he spoke, Seungwon looked up at the painting with a distance in his gaze. "When he was in high school I remember him having these nasty bags under his eyes that he had to hide with makeup because he was student body president and would've scared everyone with them. He even collapsed at home a couple times because he'd go days without eating because he would forget about meals while he was studying."

Shock and horror evident on Nakyum's bewildered face, his eyebrows peaked and mouth hung agape. "Jesus. He doesn't do that anymore, does he?"

Seungwon shrugged. "Don't know. I only see him once or twice a week for a couple hours so I have no clue what he does anymore. But being a surgical intern can't be easy and, after today, he'll be a resident because there's no chance in hell he won't pass the exams so his life is going to be more stressful." Laughing to himself, Seungwon smirked. "It'd be funny if he went bald from stress. I know it sounds mean but he used to tease me when we were kids about how shitty my hair was because I couldn't grow it as long as his."

"You guys are so weird," Nakyum chuckled. He'd never had any siblings so he was not sure if their behavior was the standard for brothers and sisters but something told him they were stranger than the average family. "So it's just Soo-min then?"

"Her and a few friends from the other departments like Asher and Kailey. Momoko said she may make it if she finishes her accounting midterm in time."

"She has a midterm on a Saturday?"

"Online classes dude."

"Ah."

Again, Seungwon was silent; his feet shifting his weight again. "Anyway, I gotta go. I need to shower and change before the exhibit opens."

"Yeah, I should probably do the same."

"You want me to swing by your place and pick you up?" Seungwon offered.

"That's too far from Manhattan to drive."

"It's fine. Really, it's no problem."

"But I'm all the way in Brooklyn."

"So?" Nudging Nakyum's arm with his elbow, Seungwon smiled. "It's fine. I'm always ready ahead of time so don't worry about it, 'kay?"

Choking on the knot in his throat as he remembered Seungho saying something similar with the same lopsided smirk on his beautiful lips, Nakyum took a deep breath. "Fine, but only if you're really okay with it."

"I'm _totally_ okay with it. I swear."

Looking away from his friend who had the same dimples and cheeky grin as his brother, Nakyum wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

"Fine." Nakyum finally caved. "Text me when you're close to my place."

"Of course my good sir."

Rolling his eyes with a small smile, both Nakyum and Seungwon turned and left the gallery; another light blanket of fresh snow coming down as the sun set over the Manhattan skyline.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hurry up will you, we're going to be late picking up Nakyum!" Soo-min shouted to her brother from the bottom of the grand staircase and she fastened her crystal embellished safety-pin earrings to the bottom most holes of her ears. Nails ruby red like her lips and dressed in fitted black leather slacks and a belted black leather peplem blazer from the Alexander McQueen boutique she had visited that afternoon, she was ready to go and moments from leaving her brother behind--a strange turn of events considering Seungwon would be happy going out in sweatpants and a beanie. Glancing at her watch, she groaned. "Seungwon!"

"Jesus christ woman, I'm coming!" Seungwon shouted from the second floor hallway; the tapping of his dress shoes echoing down the corridor. "The one time you're ready before me and you act like you've been waiting a millennia for me to get dressed." Coming down the stairs in his standard black slacks, ribbed black cashmere turtleneck, and a gray wool overcoat, he looked his sister up and down then smirked while looking away to fasten his own watch to his wrist. "You look nice. Got someone you're trying to impress?"

"Don't be an ass."

"Aren't I always though?"

Soo-min rolled her eyes with another groan. "I swear between you and Seungho I can't ever catch a break."

"We're you're older brothers. It's part of the job to be a jerk but then beat up all the other jerks that try and make a move on you."

"Well no jerks will be making a move on me tonight because that's not what we're going out for so chill, 'kay?"

Seungwon snorted a laughed before kissing her cheek. "Sure. Alright," he smiled while heading toward the door, "let's go."

"Finally."

\---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---

Exhaling a sigh of relief as he stepped out of the examination hall, Seungho already knew he had passed the boards. Didn't even have to think too deeply on it because he had studied for months from sun up to sun down. He crammed during shifts and on his lunch breaks. There wasn't a moment when he didn't have his notebook or flashcards in the back pocket of his scrubs. Seungho had watched every surgery possible from the viewing suites and had picked the brains of his attendings and residents until they shooed him away and told him to go get some sleep. Now that he was finished with the trials and tribulations of his internship it was time to celebrate.

Pulling out his phone, he gave the time a quick glance. Seungwon didn't text him once that week despite his big exhibition happening that evening. He never did when Seungho had an exam or presentation or report or anything school related coming up. Seungwon also likely thought he'd take the full test-taking period to go through the exam with a fine-toothed comb and double check his answers. But he didn't need to do anything of the sort because the months of preparation had paid off and he was one of the first interns to leave.

Biting his bottom lip with a devious smirk, he wondered what kind of look his dear little brother would have if he were to show up. He knew that--had he not had the exam that day--Seungwon would have invited him because he had invited him to every other exhibition he had participated in. With a click of his tongue, Seungho quickly made his way to the subway station so he could catch the next train home. From there he'd shower, change into something more suitable for the occasion, and head over to the Met which was only a short walk from his apartment.

' _The benefits to living in the city,_ ' he chuckled to himself quietly; tapping his rail pass at the kiosk before slipping through the gates.

Rushing to catch the train just in time before it closed its doors, Seungho gave a polite smile and nod to the little old lady sitting on the seat in front of him--her salt and pepper hair in curlers with giant candy apple red reading glasses framing her thin fair face and matching lipstick dipping down in the scowl she offered him in return. Turning away from her because her stare was eerily similar to that of his own grandmother the last time he had seen her, Seungho jumped off the subway at his stop; checking his phone a second time to make sure he wasn't running late. If he were behind he could always just use the dry shampoo instead to spare up some time. He'd rather shower though. Hygiene for him was more important than sleeping or eating. Perhaps it was the OCD or his training as a doctor though he had been like this before shipping out to med school.

Tossing his keys into the glass dish on the table by the front entrance of the apartment, Seungho made a b-line to the bedroom and en suite bathroom. After a relatively quick rinse--he taking a minute or two longer to appreciate the hot water working its magic on his tired shoulders--his energy was renewed. Hair slicked back with a towel wrapped around his waist, he perused through the clothes hanging in the walk-in closet. A tux and full suit was too formal regardless of the event location. Settling on black slacks and black formal shoes, Seungho paired them with light wool sweater in charcoal gray and his favorite black double breasted coat that cut off at the thighs. Towel drying his hair before resorting the the blow dryer because it was taking to long, he hiss at the accidental burn to his neck when the nozzle made contact with his skin. Tossing on the camel plaid Burberry his mother had gave him years ago for his eighteenth birthday, Seungho grabbed his keys, wallet, and phone then locked up and left the building.

Arriving at the Met in a few short minutes, Seungho dodged the press who recognized him because of his fathers fortune, greeted the doorman at the front entrance, and kindly handed over his coat and scarf. Anxiously pulling his hair over to the left side--tucking a few errant strands behind his ear--he took a deep breath and told himself to relax. It had been ages since Seungho had last gone to an event as large and grand as this. Usually it turned into a trainwreck because either his old man showed up or someone who knew the bastard and wanted to know why he'd been cut out of his father's life. But so far the only people who knew who cared about that sort of thing were the media hounds outside. Fidgeting with his silver Seamaster watch which he rotated around his wrist precisely three times, he took another deep breath.

Heading to the stairs after saying hello to a few familiar faces, Seungho ascended the iconic marble grand stairway lined with stone columns on either side. On the second floor were the impressionists and surrealists which was exactly where he wanted to be. Seungwon had dabbled in different art styles--had even tried modernism though it didn't quite fit his aesthetic or what he wanted to do with paint. It was after years of sampling different forms and styles that his baby brother found his calling in surrealism. There was no doubt either that it suited him. He had won several awards and titles for his talent but now that he was in university the competition had improved as well.

From dreamscape of upside down worlds in bubblegum pastels to brutalish edges and cuts scored into the painters canvas and lithographs of a laughing baby in different shades of blue, the new blood was just as good as the seasoned seniors exhibiting their pieces for the last time as students. His favorite so far was the Banksy inspired Pope Francis Rambo featuring an Apache attack helicopter and Michael Bay big explosions in the background. It was brutal but blunt in its honesty and for that Seungho had to laugh. A number of patrons shunned it; not so discreetly calling it "unnecessary" and "inappropriate" under their breath as they passed by. But the artist didn't seem to mind from what Seungho could tell. Rather, the young man relished it; smiling all the more when it pissed someone off and left them clutching their pearls. 

The disgruntled viewers weren't spared for long because two paintings down was a grotesque twelve foot tall work depicting a woman self-aborting her baby with a coat hanger while faceless figures screamed hateful words at her in a red letter cacophony. It was brilliant. Vicious and difficult to look at but meaningful and bold. It was a testament--unforgiving in its ability to force viewers to take a look at what effect their actions had on others. Yet it was the painting that followed the macabre social commentary that arrested Seungho's attention.

There, towering over him in its grandeur and unbelievable beauty were two figures caught in a passionate embrace--bones and muscles exposed with flowers and butterflies masking and punctuating as they escaped the ribs and stomach. The plum red lips made of berries and wine. The lashes of spider lilies and spine of roses. Awestruck, he shoved his hands into his pant pockets with a short breathy laugh. The detail was incredible. Built in layers of paint and thinner and some other agent to help raise the edges in certain areas, it was a marvel from both afar and up close. He loved the depth in color, the way the artist toyed with the foreground and background, and the way the stars precariously hung above the figures like spiders dangling from their web.

The raw emotion--the love and lust were so palpable he could've choked on them. The desperation. The longing and need to hang on for just one more second. There was a sadness in the passionate and adoring kiss. A sense of loss; that they could only be together at world's end when their flesh had gone and all that was left were their bones and aching souls. But alongside the lachrymose was what could only be described as triumph. They had been liberated from the constraints the world had put on them and could at long last be together.

Looking around for the artist, Seungho's expression soured minutely when he saw no one to be found. No student awkwardly awaiting his approval or criticism or professor to proudly flaunt their pupils abilities. Huffing a disgruntled sigh, he took a picture of the placard mounted on the wall next to the painting. _Wisteria and Bleeding Hearts_. That was its name; the paintings name but the artist had only left their initials, B.N. It wasn't much to go off of but perhaps someone could point him in the artists direction if he asked another student who was showcasing their work. It was doubtful that not a single person in the room knew the person who had created the piece. They were all peers in the same program after all.

Leaving _Wisteria and Bleeding Hearts_ behind him with a picture and glance over his shoulder, Seungho continued his search for Seungwon. He had already seen his brothers piece before the exhibition. It was even featured in the pamphlet for the event. Larger in width than it was in height, it was something the likes Tim Burton would adore though it was inspired by a shared dream both he and Seungwon had when they were children. Painted in deep blues with rudy oranges for lamplights hanging along the steep walkway through the bamboo forest and pops of gold for the fireflies, there loomed shadowy figures in the woods with the bamboo stalks themselves reaching up like fingers. Seungho remembered this path. Could recall the smell of moss and damp dirt after the summer rain. He and Seungwon had walked it a dozen times together on their way back to their grandparents home in Damyang. And every time they had the same feeling of unease. The same feeling of being watched closely.

It was strange seeing something so real like it was a snapshot taken from his memories. There was the lamps hanging over the path. The shrine on the side of the road with paper prayers hanging from its wooden beams. Two boys in their pajamas walking along with the eyes of the unseen spirits watching over them and the moonlight shining in through the bamboo. Shivering just a little as the sensation of what he had felt all those years ago made itself known once more, Seungho almost jumped out of his skin when Seungwon dropped his hand onto his shoulder.

"Fucking christ, you scared me," Seungho gasped; shrugging the hand off his shoulder when Seungwon began to laugh. Hugging his brother, they turned to face the painting together. "And here I thought that damn road couldn't get any creepier. Nice job Won."

Snorting a laugh, Seungwon smirked. "Why thank you. I do try."

Rolling his eyes, Seungho's smile perked up when Soo-min latched onto his other side. "You guys are a bunch of babies. That path is beautiful. You just take too many of grandma's ghost stories to heart." Slipping a slender arm around Seungho's waist while the other bent and perched itself atop her left hip, Soo-min gaze up at the painting with pride. "You did us proud Wonnie."

An audible groan of embarrassment escaped Seungwon at the meant of his sisters pet name for him. The last thing he needed was for his classmates to know that people, namely his sister, called him "Wonnie." It was one thing for Seungho to called him "Won" because he, in turn, called his brother "HoHo." It was both a joke and just a quicker way of addressing him. The same went for their sister whom they endearingly called "Mimi." But of all the nicknames she could have picked for him, he only mildly tolerated the one she loved and used almost on a daily basis.

"Hey Seungwon," Seungho interrupted the silence when a thought occurred to him. Removing his phone from his pocket, he opened the camera roll and tapped on the picture of the painting he had seen earlier. "Do you happen to know who painted this piece? They only signed with their initials and no one was there so I thought I'd ask you."

Squinting at the image for less than a second, Seungwon's brows peaked with recognition. "Yeah, that's Nakyum's entry. He had originally submitted something similar to the landscape piece at the exhibit entrance but Professor Inhun walked into his studio and saw this after he'd locked himself in there for days without leaving. It's good, right?" Seungwon smiled, looking up at his brother for a response.

"Nakyum painted this?"

"Yeah."

Looking back at the screen with confusion written across his face, Seungho felt a pang of jealousy knotting in his stomach as he recalled the drunken ranting from his first meeting with the painter. ' _Professor Inhun, huh?_ ' he thought to himself. "I wonder where he got the inspiration."

"Don't know but he won the award for best in show for our section with it."

"Wow. He beat you?" Seungho tried his hardest to fake a smile. Knew it wasn't very convincing but did so anyways because it was better than pouting like some brat. "That's not an easy thing to do."

"I'd rather be beat by a friend than a freshman."

Looking down at the picture again, the corners of his lips twitched with a restrained smile. "I'll bet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** _The Language of Flowers_ ***
> 
> -Wisteria: Historically, Wisteria symbolizes long-life and immortality. In Japanese Kabuki theater, the symbolism for the Wisteria is Love, Sensuality, Support, Sensitivity, Bliss and Tenderness. The abundance of the Wisteria flowering vine also signifies our own expanding consciousness (schweiterlinen.com [blog]).
> 
> -Bleeding Hearts: Compassion and unconditional love – Just like the name says, Bleeding heart flower symbolizes unconditional love and compassion towards someone (flowermeanings.org).


	6. Don't You Call Him

............... _Sunday morning__mid-april_...............

Pastel pink flowers coated the tree branches and birds danced through the air with bees hovering in the clusters of lilies, tulips, and daffodils in the perfectly manicured gardens of Central Park. Winter's bite still lingered in the air with ramblers and dog walkers wearing puffers over their t-shirts or light jackets. University students practiced for the upcoming rowing competitions on the lake--bypassing families of geese and swans with their baby cygnets. The snow had thawed by the end of March. So had the ice that encapsulated the branches of trees, park benches, and the stone archways and statuary hidden throughout the sprawling park. 

Jogging across Balcony Bridge, Seungho took the detour that connected to the Azalea Walk that was bursting with the same candy colored life as the rest of the park. He had been deep in thought all morning; music filling his ears and taking his mind somewhere else far far away where the pressures of daily life couldn't reach him. Rather than worry about the patient in critical care whose chronic pain couldn't be explained he watched as a a white heron flew overhead then landed in the lake by the tall reeds. Instead of remembering for the upteenth time the exact moment his patient--Mrs. Leonel's--died on the surgery table last night and the sound of her monitor flatlining as her body admitted defeat Seungho took a deep breath as he passed under fragrant archways covered in climbing jasmine so sweet he could taste it.

Sun at his back as it rose in the mid-morning sky, Seungho welcomed the first day off he had had in over a week. Found himself missing the early days of his internship when the responsibility wasn't as real and he wasn't the person that families yelled at when the treatments didn't work or the tests came back positive. For the first time in a long time, he was scared. Scared that he may make the wrong diagnosis. Scared of cutting where he shouldn't have. Scared of choking the next time someone went into asystole midway through a procedure. He was afraid of talking to the grieving families and telling them there was nothing he could do. Him who had gone through years and years of medical school and interned for two years all to learn how to save lives only to realize that he couldn't save them all.

It was normal, to be afraid like this. That's what Michelle had told him when she found him crying in the empty back corridor lined with gurneys; the unforgiving glow of the street lights bleeding in through the windows above him painting his back and shoulders in their gloom. Doctor Kiekel had said something similar during his first month of his surgical internship when he assisted in a quadruple bypass she was performing. There had been too much damage to the man's heart prior to the procedure and his heart failed when the bypass machine was switched off. It all seemed so easy and clinical then when he was still a student. That the whole point of living was to ultimately die so what better way to go than in your sleep where it was the least painful? It was different now. 

Now he understood the expression of loss and disappointment Dr. Kiekel wore. Now he understood what it felt like to have a life slip through his fingers. A life that he had been responsible for and was certain he could save. A life that, hours before, was still there--the person smiling and laughing with their family in the hospital room before what should have been a routine procedure.

Hands on his knees as he worked to steady his breathing, Seungho closed his eyes and tried remembering the last time he had been happy--actually happy and not forcing a smile for the sake of others as he usually did. It was easier to pretend and keep to himself than it was to figure out who he trust and confide in. ' _I didn't have to hide when I was with Nakyum,_ ' he thought quietly and it was true. Not once had he lied to Nakyum. He hadn't hide himself or faked a smile; didn't fake his smile because there was no need to. Seungho hadn't known the artist for long at all yet was more comfortable around him than he was among his peers. There was nothing to prove when he was with Nakyum. Nothing to flaunt or brag about. No need to be cautious for fear of being used because of his family ties. Nakyum wasn't interested in that sort of thing. Wasn't interested in any of the things that his ex's were which was why Seungho found him so attractive.

Thinking back to two weeks ago when he had last seen Nakyum, Seungho recalled the length of his wavy black hair and how it had grown a little. Could still see the amber glinting in his otherwise green eyes and the petal pink blooms of his lips. The dense wash of his eyelashes and how they swept across the tops of his cheek bones. He was so beautiful. So painfully beautiful that it was almost unfair. What human had any right to be so stunning? So arresting that they'd haunt the dreams of others and make it hurt whenever they were apart?

Seungho's fingers twitched and a chill of want rolled through him as he though back to that evening they had spent together. So many beautiful memories he could reflect upon but the one that he always came back to was that first kiss. That perfect moment when their lips touched and Nakyum's warmth invaded him--spreading and infecting him with his light. The gentle touch of revenant hands that became desperate. The pressing of Nakyum's chest to his and the fire of their tongues as their mouths opened in welcome to one another. Why were they distancing themselves for each other again? What had Nakyum said the last time they saw each other? ' _I don't want to ruin everything,_ ' the painter had said. What did that even mean? 

Seungho wanted to seek him out and ask him. Wanted to know and then press him to change his mind but respected his boundaries. He understood more than anyone what it was like to carry the weight of the world on one's shoulders. Knew what it was like to feel the anxiety and fear of being found out; of being exposed to the world for what you were without warning. Maybe Nakyum hadn't come out to his friends and family yet. Maybe he didn't want to and remain in the closet. Seungho hadn't thought about that. Hadn't considered that side of things because he had so wrapped up in his infatuation.

It was a very real possibility, that Nakyum didn't want anyone to know that he was gay or bi or whatever it was that he was. The guy was private and terribly anxious to begin with so it wouldn't be unreasonable to say that he wanted to keep his private life private--that being in a relationship with someone as well-known as Seungho would would torpedo such hopes. Jihwa had said something along those lines years ago when Seungho had told him that he didn't want to talk about his current relationship. He'd said that it was impossible to keep anything a secret because eventually the press would find out. Sure enough they had and so their relationship came to an end. But Nakyum was friends with Soo-min and Seungwon so maybe it didn't matter to him? Or maybe it did because there was no such thing as good press when it came to Seungho which was why he laid low and kept his head down. 

The "if's" and "maybe's" that flew through Seungho's head were enough to drive him mad had he not started running again--his mind leaving his questions at the lakes edge for the wildlife to devour. He just wanted to escape his skin and be someone else for a while. Wanted to stop being him and be someone less complicated with a simpler life. He'd give up everything if he could. Would end walk away from medicine and his friends and his family if he could only get away from the stained reputation his father had placed on his shoulders and the self-loathing he had learned after years of disappointing his family. If he could just be someone else maybe he'd have a shot at being happy. Maybe he'd meet a nice guy, settle down, adopt a few kids, and open a practice when he decided to leave medicine. Or maybe he would have pursued writing before his dreams were crushed by his father who told him only tragic fools and narcissists became writers. 

Laughing to himself at how woefully hilarious it all was, Seungho pushed it out of mind and kept running. There was nothing he could do about any of it now so what was the use in thinking wistfully on such things? This was his life and he had to make do with what he had and keep moving forward. Maybe he'd have better luck in the next life. Maybe he'd meet his person then and finally be normal. But until then he'd keep running.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

"So do you have any plans?" Seungwon asked as he, Soo-min, and Nakyum strolled through the large open air farmers market. Woven tote bags full of fresh produce and flowers, he took the bushel of peonies from Mimi's hands as she handed them to him. "Nakyum?"

"Hmm?" He looked up from where his eyes had wandered off to. "What's up?"

"I should be asking that. You okay? You've been spacing out a lot since yesterday."

"Yeah, I'm fine. What were you asking?"

"We wanted to know if you had any plans for your birthday. It's on Wednesday, remember or did you forget your own birthday again?"

It was a joke. Nakyum knew it was meant as a joke so he laughed but there was some truth behind Seungwon's words. He had forgot his own birthday last year and almost the year before too. It was an easy thing to forget though. He really didn't have anyone to celebrate it with for a while. His grandfather usually worked during the week and April twentieth almost always landed on a Tuesday or a Wednesday or sometimes a  
Thursday. Usually they would celebrate it a few days before or after and the affair was always nondescript. Just a present or two, a special dinner, and watching movies on the couch until they both fell asleep. It wasn't until Nakyum had met the Yoon siblings during his undergrad years that he began to celebrate his birthday with friends and on the day of noless.

"I didn't really have anything in mind," Nakyum admitted. He never did though. Never thought his birthday to be of enough importance to celebrate. Maybe if he were someone great or an important historical figure or someone of influence like the Yoon's--maybe then he'd feel compelled to remember and celebrate his birthday. But as it was it felt vain almost to celebrate his life when he hadn't done much of anything at all. "Did you guys want to do something?"

Seungwon glanced to Soo-min with the same expression thinly veiled disappointment before swiftly replacing it with a smile that was more lighthearted. "How about dinner at Grandma Kim's in Chinatown? We could go to the new art exhibit you had been talking about at the Met Breuer then grab something to eat; maybe shop around Chinatown for a little while. What do you think?"

Nakyum smiled. "Sure. Whatever you guys want."

"But it's not about what we want," Soo-min said; her brows furrowed and expression soured like that of a mother lecturing her child. "It's _your_ birthday Nakyum."

"I know but I'm good doing whatever. I'm easy so let's just do the museum and dinner."

"But are you okay with that? We can do something else if you want."

"It's fine. Let's do that."

Looking to her brother, Soo-min gave up. "'Kay, we'll do that. Is there anyone else you want to invite?"

Nakyum shrugged. "Not really. You guys are pretty much my closest friends so it's fine if it's just the three of us."

"Okay," Soo-min smiled sadly when Nakyum had walked ahead to look at what the honey vendor had. "I'm sorry Nakyum," she said under her breath. "I wish we could do more for you."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

............... _Tuesday evening_...............

"You know you could just stay in bed for a little longer," Jihwa called from the bed as Seungho got up and walked over to the bathroom. Naked with his dewy skin decorated with his and Seungho's cum, he laid there on his back--hair a mess and bites and bruises proudly on display. Eyes following Seungho's silent figure, he got up and followed him into the bathroom. "What is it?"

"What's what?" Seungho asked nonchalantly--tone calm and detached with his back turned as he started the water.

"Why are you being so cold? You've been like this for weeks. Calling me when you need a rough fuck and then ignoring me when it's over."

"Isn't that what we always do? You do the same," Seungho accused, glancing over his shoulder with sharp eyes. "Isn't your boyfriend at all suspicious?"

Lips pursed and eyebrow cocked, Jihwa was not amused. "We broke up."

"Liar."

"We did. I couldn't stand him being so clingy and paranoid."

"He had every right to be clingy and paranoid."

Jihwa clicked his tongue then shoved away from the door. "I broke up with him because I wanted to give us a shot," he cooed into Seungho's ear while wrapping his arms around Seungho's waist. Kissing between his shoulder blades, Jihwa rested his cheek there. "What do you think? We've been fooling around for years now. Can't we try?"

Stomach knotting, Seungho felt his blood go cold. "No, we can't."

"Why not?"

"Because we never had an honest moment between us. I willingly helped you cheat on your partner and now you want to have an honest relationship with me?"

"Well I didn't like him as much as I like you."

"Then why were you with him to begin with with?" Seungho countered. Looking at Jihwa who was ready to either slap him or cry--maybe both--Seungho sighed. "I can't. I'm sorry but I don't want that with you."

Jihwa scoffed. "You didn't _not_ want me when you were balls deep in my ass half an hour ago."

"Jihwa..."

"It's fine," he smiled incredulously; backing away with eyes wide with anger and disbelief. Biting his bottom lip, he shook his head. "You're impossible to get close to, you know that right? No matter how hard someone tries. No matter the kindness they show you or the forgiveness, you actively push everyone away because of your daddy complex." The words stung more than any slap to the face and lingered between them with a bitterness--eyes locked and unrelenting in their intensity. "I wouldn't be surprised if you ended up alone."

Quiet and unmoving, Seungho just breathed a laugh. "Same."

Smiling fast returning to a scowl, Jihwa's anger flared. "Fine, be like that. But I'm not going to be your easy fuck anymore so find someone else to take your frustration out on."

Watching him as he stormed out of the bathroom, grabbed his clothes and left, Seungho sighed--back pressing against the tiled wall as the strength in his knees left him. They shouldn't have been doing what they were doing to begin with. At least not when Jihwa started dating Alex. But their relationship was complicated. They were both friends and rivals. Frenemies that understood one another because they came from similar backgrounds--the children of wealthy Korean immigrants who sought to control every aspect of their offsprings life from birth to marriage to death. They were disappointments to their parents and knew what it meant to be excommunicated from the family.

They were complicated. Hard to figure out but easy to understand when they didn't put a name to what they were because anything was safe when it was ambiguous. That's how it had been since they met in med school. That's how it had been since the first time they had sex--since the night they agreed to this and then Jihwa left to go have drinks with his friends as if nothing had happened at all. Things were supposed to be easy with Jihwa. Easy and fun not serious and frightening with all the messy feelings and responsibilities that came with a real relationship. Neither of them were emotionally available for something like that. They were practically property of the hospital and on loan to their loved ones. So why start a relationship if it was just going to sour and cause trouble in their work lives?

After a quick shower Seungho switched into his sweatpants, pullover, and a jacket. Slipping his beanie on when he saw it was cooler than last night, he left the apartment for a walk. Lately it had been harder to stay inside where his thoughts could catch him in the quiet of his own mind. So he distracted himself. Went out for long walks or casual jogs through Central Park. He'd take the subway to downtown or Chinatown if he was feeling peckish or go to see a midnight matinee at one of the theaters nearby the tenderloin district. So long as he wasn't inside his own apartment he was fine. So long as he didn't have to lay in bed with his thoughts or look at his scrubs he was fine.

Tonight therapy was a walk through the park; the scent of flowers and verbena cluttering the air to choke out the smell of gasoline and cigarettes. Accompanied by the sound of his footsteps on the pavement and the twittering of birds singing their last song for the evening, Seungho rounded the corner--his eyes lifting to catch sight of a familiar pair of park benches. Laughing to himself pitifully, he shoved his hands into his pockets before taking a seat on the left most bench.

He was so silly. So woefully underdeveloped emotionally. He'd just broke things off with Jihwa and here he was sitting on a bench in the middle of the night thinking about his brother's friend. A friend he hardly knew yet couldn't get his mind off of. Jihwa was right, he did have a complex. It may not be a father-complex but he definitely had something. Something was wrong with him to the point that he was constantly hitting the self-destruct button and getting into relationships--whether intimate or not--that weren't suited for him. Relationships that were unhealthy one way or the other. But regardless of it all he hadn't stopped thinking of Nakyum. Couldn't ignore the seed of bitterness or the choking jealousy that boiled over when he thought of how Nakyum had painted his masterpiece while thinking of Professor Inhun and not him.

Seungho had met the good professor once or twice during past exhibitions when Seungwon was his student. The man was a snake. Completely two-faced and a money grubber which was why he doted on and fawned over Seungwon's work. He likely thought he could use their family in some way or another to propel his own career forward. Their mother had been a known patron of the arts and a gallery wing at the Metropolitan had been named after her a year or two after her passing; the same gallery that the students from NYU showcased in every spring and fall. To think that Nakyum would fall for that man was like a kick in the teeth. But who was he to get angry over such a thing?

He and Nakyum had only known each other for a couple months before they got drunk and slept together. It wasn't as if he had asked him out. Wasn't like he had been his closest dearest friend wanting him in secret for years so why did Seungho feel so slighted? Why did it hurt so much, recalling a drunken Nakyum laying on the park bench next to his singing " _Send In The Clowns_ " between muted sobs and sniffles? It would be foolish and absurd to say it was because he had fallen for him. They just connected well. That was all there would be. A brief connection; momentary and powerful but meant to be short-lived. But still, a part of him hoped for more. A part of Seungho wanted to lean into that warmth just a little more and believe there was a reason he had met Nakyum when he was at his lowest.

Pulling out his phone, Seungho unlocked the screen and opened up his contacts list. They had swapped information a week or so before having sex because they just kept running into each other. Funny how when he wanted to talk to him the most the brat was nowhere to be found. Staring at Nakyum's number, Seungho felt his chest tighten and his throat clench. Should he call him? Maybe it was best if he didn't. No, it was definitely best if he didn't. They each had their own problems to deal with. It wouldn't be right to hamper him down with his childishness and inability to cope with his circumstances. Still, his finger moved on its own--tapping the painters number; hand bringing the phone up to his ear as the dial tone rang.

Moments later, the insufferable silence broke. "Hello?" Nakyum spoke and it was like the most beautiful song Seungho had heard. "Seungho?"

"Yeah," he rasped; voice straining as he fought the wistful smile tugging at his lips. "Sorry, I was just scrolling through my contacts and my finger slipped." It was a lie. They both knew it was--it hanging in the air like a veil waiting to be passed. Licking his lips, he could hear Nakyum breathe. "How are you? It's been a while since I last saw you."

"I'm alright."

"Really?"

Nakyum was silent. "No," he answered quietly. "Not really. God, why am I telling you this?" he sighed to himself as if he forgot someone else was on the other end.

"What's wrong?"

Again, silence.

"Look, things don't have to be weird between us." Seungho bit his lip with the fingers of his other hand fidgeting with a stray thread inside his jacket pocket. "I've been meaning to call you actually. To make sure you're okay and taking care of yourself."

"Why?"

"Because we both know what happens when you get upset when you're alone." The quiet was deafening. "I'm not good with people. I don't know if the friends I made at work like me for who I am or if they're just tolerating me because we work together. My siblings have chewed me out countless times and my father thinks I'm a waste of genes. But even so, I'd like to keep in touch with you. Check in on you and know what's up."

"You mean like friends?"

A part of Seungho screamed for more but he quickly shut it down before it could ruin the conversation. "Yeah, like friends."

Another moment of silence came between them as Nakyum thought it over. "I'd like to be friends too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Nakyum said with an audible smile to his tone. "I don't know what it is but I can talk to you about anything. It's weird right?"

"Not really. I feel the same about you." His heart almost lept out of his chest at the admission. This was bad. He knew what that feeling meant and it was nothing but trouble. But still, Seungho continued. "So why aren't you doing alright right now?"

"My birthday's tomorrow."

"Yeah? Congrats."

"It's not exactly one of my favorite days."

"Why?"

Seungho could just imagine how Nakyum was shrugging in that moment and how he'd likely be trying to look away. "I just never thought it was important."

"Is that really all?" When Nakyum didn't answer, Seungho breathed a laugh. "Guess that's a question for another time huh. Do you know what you're doing to celebrate?"

This time Nakyum laughed; a real laugh no matter how short it was. "Mimi and Seungwon were bugging me about that a couple days ago so we settled on going to the Met Breuer and then Chinatown for dinner."

"But is that what _you_ want to do?"

There was something in the way Seungho said the words that gave Nakyum pause. "No," he admitted; shocked at the certainty in his own voice. "Not really."

"Well, what do you want to do?"

Nakyum was quiet for a moment and Seungho waited--nodding a silent hello to a jogger that ran by. "I-I want to go to the art festival at Wave Hill. Then m-maybe watch movies and order food..." he trailed off.

Seungho smiled. "Well then that's what you should do. Do you want me to tell Seungwon and Mimi?"

Nakyum shook his head despite them being miles apart. "No, I'll tell them."

"'Kay."

Nakyum hesitated for a brief moment. "Will you come?"

"To your birthday?"

"Y-Yeah. Since we're friends I thought I-I'd invite you but I totally understand if you can't because of work or something else or if you just don't w--"

"I'd love to. I'm on call though so if work calls me in then I have to go. But I'd love to come."

"Really?" The smile was brighter this time in his voice. So infectious that it made Seungho smile too. "You'll come?"

"Yeah."

"Awesome," Nakyum said disbelievingly. "Cool..."

Seungho could only smile. "Cool."

"Then I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Text me when you wake up so that I know what the plan is and where to meet you guys."

"Y-Yeah. Anyways, I-I should probably get to sleep. You too since i-it's late."

"I'll be sure to turn in soon." Listening to Nakyum as he shuffled around in what was likely his room, Seungho didn't fight the wave of warmth spreading through him. "Night Nakyum."

"Night Seungho."

The call ended and the line went silent leaving Seungho alone with his thoughts and the ghosts of their meeting sitting on the bench next to him. Staring off into the treeline with a dreamy smile painted across his face, Seungho laughed. He definitely shouldn't have called him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, I literally wrote this in a single afternoon. Either the writing spirits possessed me or....the writing spirits possessed me. Anyways, I hope y'all liked it. Remember to leave your comments and feedback down below. Writers live off a strict diet of critique and commentary so FEED YOUR WRITERS!
> 
> Stay lovely and stay freaky,  
> -Mars-Sunday
> 
> \-----------------------------------------------
> 
> ** _MUSICAL INSPIRATION_ **
> 
> -"Cherry" by Harry Styles  
> -"Nunchucks" by Doja Cat (Seungho and Jihwa scene)


	7. Skylines at Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It's been a long, long time_   
>  _Since I've memorized your face_   
>  _It's been four hours now_   
>  _Since I've wandered through your place_   
>  _And when I sleep on your couch_   
>  _I feel very safe_   
>  _And when you bring the blankets_   
>  _I cover up my face_
> 
> _I do_  
>  _Love you_  
>  _I do_  
>  _Love you_
> 
> -Sufjan Stevens, _Futile Devices_

............... _an early afternoon__june_...............

"And I'm done with my final project for the semester. Thank god, I thought I was going to die. T__T" Nakyum typed into his phone with a smile as he walked down the front steps of the arts building. Sending a picture of the final piece he had painted for his junior year project, he apologized to the young woman he accidentally bumped into; handing the notebook she had dropped to her with an apologetic smirk.

"Congrats, just one more year to go," Seungho texted back followed by a gif of Effie Trinket from the Hunger Games saying 'May the odds be ever in your favor.' It was swiftly followed by a second message. "You free later? By some miracle I got the day off. We could check out that pop-up art exhibit you were talking about the other day."

"Or I could give you another chance at revenge in Street Fighter."

"Haha. Funny."

Nakyum snorted a laugh. Seungho was such a sore loser but would never admit to it.

"How about exhibit, food, then Street Fighter?" Nakyum sent the message as he walked the few short blocks to Central Park. Sitting down on a park bench, he reclined back, his expression growing brighter as the sunshine reached him through the treetops and puffy white clouds that floated through the dreamy June blue sky.

The phone vibrated in his hands with Seungho's reply. "Sounds like a plan. What do you want to eat?"

"I picked last time so it's your turn."

His response was almost immediate. "Well are we eating near your place or mine?"

"YOU PICK!" He knew Seungho was probably rolling his eyes right about now. They always bickered like this when it came down to picking restaurants and what movies to watch. But it was fun; added humor to their strange little friendship.

"Okay, Soul Spot."

"But I don't feel like Caribbean food." The protest was followed with a pouting emoji.

"Omg, Nakyum I swear... You just told me to pick and then you say no to the place I pick." Seungho's chiding was accompanied by a face-palm and scowl. "What DO you feel like? And don't say 'just pick something' because I did and you said no. T___T"

Pondering for a moment as he thought about what was nearby his place, Nakyum answered. "Burgers or pizza. Sushi and Chinese food also sounds good."

"That's not helping!"

"Well I don't know. lol." He knew he was being a brat. Couldn't help himself because it was amusing seeing Seungho's annoyed responses because he knew there wasn't any malice in them; just lighthearted frustration. "You know we could just order on Postmates or something and have it delivered."

"True. That sounds better because I'm still tired from yesterday and don't want to go running around town."

"Oh yeah, how did the procedure go?" Smiling when instead of a text his cell began to vibrate with an incoming call, Nakyum quickly accepted it. "Hey, so as I was saying."

Seungho sighed. "It was alright. We were able to remove most of the cancerous tissue and the tumors but there were a few that had grown around the patients' aorta."

"That's not good right?"

"No, it's not good. It's the worst case but because the tumors are small we think that they can be eradicated with chemo so we're hopeful."

"Who was the attending you were working with?"

"Connor." When he heard Nakyum humming an 'ummm', Seungho smirked. "Doctor Dawson. The tall baby-faced surgeon that looks like he moonlights in a death metal band."

"Oh, the ponytail guy."

"Yeah, him."

"I didn't know he did oncology."

"He doesn't usually. He's a cardiothoracic surgeon."

Nakyum's brows furrowed with visible confusion. "Then why is he the attending for an oncology case?"

"Because the cancer is in the chest cavity surrounding the heart," Seungho snorted a laugh. It was endearing how much Nakyum knew about medicine yet couldn't connect the dots with the bigger picture when it came to certain cases. "Anyways, he was the attending but Kiekel was the consulting because her specialty is oncology."

"That woman scares me."

"Same."

Nakyum laughed. "Where are you right now? We could meet up and eat something before going to the exhibit."

"Sure. I just left the gym though so I need to go home and change."

"And shower," Nakyum said flatly. They had hung out once after Seungho had finished at the gym and, for as handsome as he was, he smelled like a sweaty locker room.

"I already did. Jeeze, you're so bratty sometimes."

"No I'm not. You stink when you workout."

"You know you sound like a nagging mother right now."

"And?"

Seungho laughed. "Well I already showered so calm down."

"Whatever. Anyways, I'm at the park entrance by the school."

"Cool. Stay put and I'll see you in thirty?"

Nakyum could've kicked himself for how giddy the simple promise of seeing Seungho made him. "'Kay. See you soon. And you better not stink."

"Oh my god, I'm hanging up," he chuckled. "See you soon."

"'Kay, bye."

"Bye."

\---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---

Toothpick snatched between his teeth and lips irked, Seungho hit whatever combo of buttons on the controller his fingers had memorized as Nakyum's character relentlessly knicked and punched his fighter. Murmuring "no, no, no" as the health meter decreased--blinking into the red--he dropped the controller with a shout of protest when the android lolita Nakyum was playing grabbed his meathead street performer by the collar of his jacket lifted him up and then smashed him face first into the ground in one devastating blow; the camera zooming in on her face as she blew the players a kiss with the neon pink outlines of hearts radiating out from behind her.

"Why are you so good at this?!" Seungho griped as they were returned to the character selection screen. "Shouldn't you be painting and lamenting in a studio somewhere instead of clocking hours on this?"

"Sounds like someone doesn't like having their ass handed to them," Nakyum smirked, missing the side-eye Seungho shot at him. "And I usually go manic for a couple days in a row and paint my pieces then."

"You know that's not healthy, right?"

"Yeah but it's what works for me."

Selecting the old kung fu master with a white beard down to his knees, Seungho glanced briefly to Nakyum. "I'm serious though. You shouldn't do that."

"And I'm serious when I say it's the only thing that works," Nakyum answered casually as he made his selection--a Brazilian hip hop queen wearing ripped jeans and a netted neon green crop top. "If I try to pace out my work I end up just sitting at my work station staring at a canvas or clay or whatever it is I'm working with. I perform better under pressure."

"I know but..." Swallowing his words when he realized that now wasn't the time for them, Seungho sighed. "Fine. But don't come to me crying if you need someone to talk you down from a panic attack."

"You say that but..."

They both knew Seungho was bluffing. That he was only said what he had to make a point because he had said it countless times before. And in the last two months of the semester Nakyum had called Seungho five or so times on the brink of a panic attack and every time the good doctor would talk him down from the ledge. It was the only thing that got Nakyum through the semester and it was also their little secret. 

Nobody knew just how close they had become. Didn't know that they hung out with each other more than they did with their other friends and that they had shared more secrets with one another than they had divulged to their closest confidants. No one knew that the days when they didn't meet up they were texting back and forth for hours. No one knew the inside jokes they shared or what the banter they exchanged meant when they were meeting up with a group of friends. The sly smiles, twitches of fingers, biting of lips, and quick peeks to one another. It was their secret. Their world that was safe and free from criticism or questioning or gossip. It was just them. Just Nakyum and Seungho.

After another round or so Seungho had finally accepted that he'd never beat Nakyum in Street Fighter or Mortal Kombat or any fighting game for that matter. He just couldn't keep up; his reflexes too slow for the fast quick-thinking the games required. That and he was tired of the brat showing him pity by easing up on the punches. He may have hated losing but he hated a dishonest match even more. So to keep his dignity in tact he switched over to the streaming channel with everything from Netflix to Youtube and Hulu.

"Pick something to watch," Seungho grunted as he got up, grabbing their empty to-go containers and utensils and walking them into the kitchen.

"You want me to help?" Nakyum offered as he walked off.

"Nah, it's alright." There was the clinking of the plates against the metal forks and spoons as he rinsed them then the muted thud of the dishwasher door closing. Gentle footsteps followed as Seungho returned with two unopened beers in his left hand. "You staying the night or no?"

Thanking him as he took the can, Nakyum worked to calm the warming of his face and the racing of his heart. "Would you cap me at one drink if I said no?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm staying over."

Rolling his eyes at the cheeky grin, Seungho smirked. "Alright, have it your way. Find anything good to watch? And don't say you can't decide."

"We watch Rick and Morty. Or Attack on Titan. I was also thinking--"

"Okay, I get it. I'll pick," Seungho said with an exasperated yet humored expression as he took the remote from a thankful Nakyum. "Can you ever make your mind up on anything without being under pressure?"

"Mmmm," the painter hummed as he leaned against Seungho; their shoulders touching and warmth mingling. "Maybe." He couldn't tell him that he had made up his mind to fall for him. Couldn't tell him that he had decided to keep it a secret and settle on being friends because it was better than being exiled from Seungho's life. Nakyum had been very decisive in private but couldn't tell Seungho. He'd never tell him. "It depends on what the situation is."

Shaking his head, Seungho relented. Nakyum was stubborn and picky. Bratty and terribly indecisive and couldn't pull himself out of his own thoughts to save his life. But it was oddly endearing. Sweet almost but he couldn't allow himself to dwell on those thoughts for long. Quietly clearing his throat, he clicked on Amazon Prime video then tabbed over to the watch list. For all his shyness and awkward stammering, Nakyum held a deep appreciation for the macabre and bizarre. From folklore to film, he loved stories of superstition, fantasy, and fright. Loved seeing how directors and cinematographers could take something as conventional as a dim-lit street and turn it into a thing of nightmares. It was another one of the many quirks that went into making him who he was; another part of his story--a thread in the fabric of person that was Nakyum.

"Okay, it's between Pan's Labyrinth, Mama, and The Shape of Water," Seungho lazily listed off the options as he got comfortable on the couch. Counting to three in his head when Nakyum all but melted into him, he steadied his breathing before it could give him away. "I picked the director so you choose the movie."

"Hmmm, let's do Shape of Water. I haven't seen that one in a while."

"Fish sex it is."

Nakyum playfully punched him in the side. "It's a masterpiece."

"And it had fish sex in it."

Shaking his head, Nakyum just sighed though not without a small smile teasing at his lips. This was their usual and he loved it. Loved the carefree musings and bickering that was always spoken with a tone of humor. Loved how comfortable they were with each other even though a part of him was still fearful because it had all happened so quickly. ' _We're just really compatible,_ ' he'd tell himself. It wasn't a lie. In many ways, it was as if they knew each other before they even met. Understood one another on a deeper level and saw past the flaws and personality hang-up's that were routinely frowned upon by others. They accepted each other. Made one another better and supported each other when things got rough. It was so easy being with Seungho that Nakyum often found himself wondering what their lives would have been like had they met sooner.

Smiling to himself, Nakyum rested his head on Seungho's shoulder--giggling when Seungho joked that he was already drunk. Going along with his analysis, he just nuzzled in closer, basking in the warmth radiating from him. Watching the movie with mild interest, he focused less on the plot and more on the steady in and out of Seungho's breathing. Tried to feel the beating of his heart and commit the faint scent of his laundry detergent to memory. There were a million reasons why he shouldn't do what he was doing. A million reasons why involving himself with someone would spell disaster but Nakyum couldn't bring himself to care enough to stop.

Hours passed, laughs were shared and gasps muted by the strike up of violins as the plot reached its climax. One beer became two and then three. Senseless words were muttered and another movie by Del Toro was selected. Neither of them were paying attention at this point. Neither of them cared. Distracted by the simple touch of their arms and Nakyum's head on Seungho's shoulder--the painters leg carelessly knocking against Seungho's whenever he moved, they were each caught up in their own thoughts. Both telling themselves to relax and keep their eyes ahead.

Peeking at Nakyum midway through _Mama_ , Seungho stifled the laughter that fought to break past his tight lips. Cheeks flushed and mouth ajar as a small snore escaped him, Nakyum had likely passed out shortly after the movie had started. Pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he smiled with shoulders gently shaking with a chuckle, he slowly reached for the remote on the coffee table--turning the tv off without waking up the slumbering brat. Pausing for a brief moment, Seungho took in the delicate features and elegant lines and angles of Nakyum's face. He'd done it before. Had watched him in his sleep fully aware of how creepy it was and how bad it'd look if he were caught. Yet even so, he couldn't stop himself. Could not help himself as he leaned in quietly and kissed his forehead just above his eyes.

Slowly, Seungho rose without disturbing Nakyum. Moving the coffee table and cleaning up whatever had been left out, he pulled out the trundle bed that was hidden inside the couch. Grabbing the extra pillows and blankets from the linen closet down the hall, he fixed up the mattress before laying Nakyum on top. Draping the blanket over him, a faint dreamy lopsided smile pulled at Seungho's lips as he combed his fingers through the thick waves atop the painters head. He was so beautiful. He had noticed the night he had stumbled upon Nakyum in the park. Could tell from a single glance that he possessed a rare and unconventional beauty. Soft fair skin and hair like black velvet with dense lashes dusting the very tops of his cheeks. Eyes like the sun bursting through treetops with rays of orange and gold glittering in their depths. Lips full and the softest shade of pink like roses before they bloomed. He was stunning. Arresting--painfully so--and Seungho could not do more than watch from a distance and touch in secret.

"I wish you would tell me why older brother's are off limits," Seungho whispered. Swallowing hard on the bitter pill knotting in his throat, he shoved one hand into his pant pocket while the other reached up to anxiously rub the back of his neck. Staring at Nakyum a moment longer with his expression souring, Seungho sighed, turned his back to leave, and murmured, "Fuck my life."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Seungho had gotten used to the sound of the metal locker behind his slamming shut whenever Jihwa changed. It had been months since he had broken things off yet he could still feel the fire in his eyes following him and the anger boring holes into his back as if he were a target. Slinging his stethoscope around his neck with his phone on silent a tucked into the inside pocket of his pants, Seungho withheld the exasperated sigh that wanted to escape him. Held it in until Jihwa had changed, slammed his locker again, and marched out of the changing room. Only then did he let it out; snorting a laugh when Omari asked what poll had been shoved up Jihwa's ass to make him so insufferable.

Shortly after doing his own rounds, Seungho's interns had arrived. It was early and they looked the same way he did during his first month of his surgical internship. Bags under their eyes, messy hair quickly combed through or pulled back into a bun or ponytail, and the scent of fresh coffee wafting off of them, it were as if he were looking in a mirror. Months ago they were still in med school and he was an intern taking his board exams. Now he was the resident and they were his responsibility.

It was a strange feeling--being followed around and watched by not only students but attendings and the chief of surgery. Every resident was put under a microscope. It was part of the job because they were still fresh out of their learning period but skilled enough to be teachers in their own right. But now, if one of their interns screwed up, they were punished just as harshly as the students. It was comforting in the same way that cacti were cuddly. Akin to walking on hot coals or swallowing swords for show, everything was scrutinized. And because Seungho had been at the top of his group both in school and during his internship, everyone wanted to see how he'd perform under such pressure. Some he knew wanted to see him fall. Others were genuinely curious with a handful of mysterious spectators hanging around the fringes.

More so than ever, he found himself repeating procedures in his head before performing them to make sure everything was perfect. He practiced every possible suture during his brakes or while he was reading up on a case file and had started reviewing his flashcards that he had used for the exam. But even then with constant perfecting and fine tuning he still was not beyond the chief's criticism. Groaning as he deflated into one of the chairs behind the front desk in the surgical ward, Seungho pulled off his glasses, shut his eyes, and tilted his head back. It was only three-thirty in the afternoon yet he was more tired than when he was an intern on the last leg of a twenty-two hour shift.

Staring at him from her end of the long crescent desk, Michelle spun her chair around. "What's wrong?" Her tone was short and mothering like a parent readying themselves to lecture their child. Eyebrow arched, she nudged him. "You can't die at the front desk kiddo. Gotta do that in the on-call room or the locker room."

"Interns cry in the locker room," Seungho countered, his voice tight and ragged. "Like hell I'm going in there."

"So now you're above crying in the showers, huh? I'll remember that."

Cracking open an eye, his gaze rolled over to meet hers. Sighing, he turned around and sat up; leaning forward just a little so that his elbows were resting atop his knees with fingers carding through his hair. "I just feel like I've been spread thin. Whether it's here or out there, I feel like I can't catch a break. I don't sleep a lot because it's more trouble than it's worth but then I come to work and I can't focus."

"Why don't you want to sleep? Is it your father?"

Seungho didn't answer. Just sat there quietly staring at the ground.

"Is it relationship problems?" When he snuck a peek at her, Michelle smirked. "You remind me of my son. He can handle anything and everything. Can run into a burning building without a second thought but panics when he starts feeling human emotion."

Seungho gave a short laugh. "Sounds like my kind of guy."

Leaning in closer with a grunt of her own as her seniored back and shoulders protested, she tried getting on eye level with him. "You know, there's a saying us nurses have. ' _Those who feel the most hate it the most. And those people become doctors._ ' Who's eatin' your goat, kiddo? Whoever he is he must be spectacular to have you this off your game."

Seungho looked up at her, mouth opening with the words dangling on the tip of his tongue but let his head fall and the words die where they hung.

"There's no point to it," he confided. "He already said 'older brothers are off limits.' No point in pushing him now."

"So it's one of Seungwon or Mimi's friends." Staring at him for a long moment, the wizened nurse pursed his lips before a light sparked in her eyes. "It's the chief's kid."

Again, Seungho didn't answer. But his omission was just as damning as an admission.

Exhaling a loud sigh, she sat back in her chair. "You know, I was there the day that kid was born. Beautiful baby. Didn't cry much and always kept to himself. But he was thoughtful; always had a reason for what he said and did even if it didn't make sense." Looking at Seungho who still had his hands on his head, her smile softened; taking on a sadder tone. "You should talk to him. That boy gets caught up in his head a lot just like you and needs someone to pull him out of there and set him straight. And from the sound of it you two have gotten pretty close."

"He'll just shut me out if I do that. He's not the type that likes confrontation."

"No one _likes_ confrontation kiddo but sometimes it's necessary. Just like patients don't appreciate you telling them that eating fried chicken every day is bad for their health and that they need to eat more vegetables. No one likes it but it's part of being an adult." Glancing to her pager, Michelle looked back to Seungho. "This is me mothering you. Don't let me down, alright?"

Sitting there a moment longer after she had gotten up and left, Seungho closed his eyes, breathed in and held it for twelve long seconds before breathing out. On the second breath, his pager vibrated on his hip. Looking down at the screen, he sighed. The break was over and it was time for him to go back to work; to go back to being an adult with an adult job and adult problems. Rising to his feet, he saw one of his interns standing at the front desk reading over a case file that belonged to different intern in his group.

"Cho," Seungho spoke; the mask now firmly in place and his voice betraying nothing. "What are you doing?"

Whipping around, she folded her arms over the file. "I-I was just, uh, organizing things." Eyes anxious like a misbehaving child caught by their parents, she couldn't look away. "Do you need any--"

"Give me the file."

"Yes sir."

Taking the chart from her as she gave it to him without hesitation, his brows furrowed the longer she stood there looking at him. "Go away."

"Yes sir."

"And stop calling me sir," he called after her as she left. Groaning as he pinched the bridge of his nose, Seungho slipped his glasses back on. "I need a vacation."

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

............... _Cielo Nightclub, half past 11:00pm__june 24th_...............

Soo-mi was three shots of tequila and two Long Island Iced Tea's in when Seungho arrived at the club for his brother's birthday celebration. Slurring a joyous shriek over the vocals of Chubby Cherry singing " _Ode to the Bouncer_ , she nearly tripped over the toes of her strappy black Louboutin heels; her jalapeno strawberry margarita only just missing the hem of her black sequined mini dress that clung to her with two pathetic excuses for straps. Hardly surprised to see her so far gone, Seungho caught her--taking the glass from her hands without her noticing as she rambled on about some girl she made out with in the bathroom and the cute guy working the bar. Shooting an accusatory look to her friends Genna and Baylee who undoubtedly encouraged her to keep drinking--they not being too well off either--he sat Soo-mi down, asking where there brother was.

"I haven't seen your stupid face in weeks an' you're askin' where Wonnie is?" Soo-mi snapped. "Ya' jerk. Hello to you too!"

Switching off his 'lecturing big brother' mode, he sighed. "Hi Mimi, I missed you too." Accepting her drunken hug, he awkwardly looked at her friend Baylee who lifted two fingers spread into a V then flicked her tongue between them. "Can you tell me where Won is?"

Sputtering a smile, she pointed her perfectly manicured and bejeweled finger at the table across from hers. "He's right there Hoho." Snorting laughter uncontrollably, Mimi fell against Genna. "Hoho. Because you fuck a lot of guys." She snorted another laugh. "I'm sorry," Mimi cackled and choked on the laugh she tried to suppress. "Sorry. It's not funny."

Bewildered and concerned, he watched her for a long moment, looked to her friends, and then back to Mimi. "I'm gonna tell the bartenders no more drinks for you three."

"Ah, you're no fun Hoho!" Mimi whined, smacking his butt as he turned to walk away.

Ignoring her, Seungho spotted Seungwon at the table across the way surrounded by his own friends who were in far better shape than their sister and her companions. Smiling when Seungwon waved him down, Seungho jerked his chin at Natalie and Geoff in greeting, said "hey" to Stavros who was a buddy Seungwon had made from the engineering department, and gave Liza a hug when she stood up and greeted him. She had been with Won for years now and Mimi was convinced they were going to get married after grad school. They had repeatedly told her that was far off in their future but there was no talking to her when she got an idea stuck in her head. 

Relaxing into the plush leather couch nestled into the alcove light by the candy color lights, Seungho could feel the pulsing of the music beat out the kinks in his shoulders and neck and he reclined back further. It had been ages since he had last gone out and even longer since he had gone to a nightclub. It was a couple of months after he had started his internship at Mount Sinai that he decided he needed to relieve some of the tension the shift had left him with. His resident had been on his ass all day and an attending had called him out for his poor bedside manner so Seungho needed something or someone to take his mind off of the days events. That was the first time he had Jihwa had sex. They had both ended up at the same club and ordered the same drinks while taking teasing jabs at each others academic records.

"I wasn't sure if you'd be able to come," Seungwon said, getting as close to his brother as possible to make sure he could be heard over the music. "I know you're probably exhausted from working all day."

Rolling his head to the side, Seungho smiled. "Don't worry about it. I wouldn't miss your birthday even if I had worked two days solid."

"You're gonna work yourself into a heart attack like grandpa you know."

He flashed Seungwon that cheeky smirk he used to be known for. "At least I'll look good when they bury me." Taking a quick look around at the people sitting at the two tables Soo-mi had reserved for them, Seungho could feel the baited breath he was holding onto. "I take it Nakyum opted out of attending. I doubt this is his kind of scene."

"No, he just stepped out back to take a call."

"Seriously?" Seungho could have choked on his shock. Correcting himself immediately, he laid his head back down on the spine of the couch. "Huh. Didn't know he was into clubs."

"He isn't really but he'll go once in a while if it's for a special occasion."

"So you're torturing the poor kid."

Seungwon shrugged. "I don't know. He seemed pretty willing."

"Right. Anyway, what did you guys order for bottle service?"

"Mimi got us a couple bottles of Pierre-Jouet, a bottle of Belvedere to split--"

"A whole bottle?" Seungho's eyes shot wide open and his brows knitted together in their usual manner. "Jesus, why?"

"Because she wanted it," Seungwon stated flatly as if his brother should have already knew the answer.

"Okay, but a whole bottle?"

Seungwon shrugged. "Anyway, that and some Patron and cocktails with appetizers on the side."

"You guys will need more than just appetizers." Seungho could hear how nagging he was being. Cringed even but still said it anyways. He couldn't help himself. Being the older brother and pseudo-parent had been hardwired into him at a young age. Clicking his tongue, he rose to his feet. "I'm going to go get something to drink. Be right back."

"'Kay. Don't get swarmed like last time."

Shaking his head with a lopsided grin, Seungho disappeared into the sea of bodies that moved and swayed together with the beat of the music. Everyone loved Cielo's. Caught somewhere between Tron and every unicorn pixie ravers wet dream with a laid back atmosphere over by the lounge area where the table service spots were, it was the go-to for a good time. Non-discriminant and unassuming from the outside, it was akin to falling down a rabbit hole. You could be anyone you wanted there. No one asked questions as drinks and phone numbers were swapped. No one cared if you were a Manhattan heiress looking for a good time or a dirt poor university student cutting loose with some friends. Everything and everyone was fair game so long as both parties were willing and consenting.

Finding a spot at the far right corner of the bar, Seungho leaned against the high-polished black lacquered wood--his head bobbing to the fresh set list that began to play with the change in dj's. Turning down a bombshell brunette that had tapped him on the shoulder and asked to buy him a drink, he patiently waited his turn; greeting the bartender with a smile then asking him for a Boulevardier. Not missing the friendly smile in return nor the wink the redhead sent his way, Seungho humored the idea of taking the guy home. He was cute enough and seemed like he'd be good in bed. But something didn't feel right when he collected his drink--the bartenders number discretely written neatly onto the back of the napkin.

Tucking the napkin into the back pocket of his jeans, Seungho was about to make his way back over to the tables when he spotted Nakyum. Bathed in bubblegum pinks, cotton candy blues, and sherbert yellow light, he was every bit as stunning as his own masterpiece hanging in the Met. Eyes meeting from across the way, he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face like wildfire or the stutter in his chest when Nakyum returned the gesture. Just a simple smile and he was tripping over himself. It was ridiculous. He was a grown man with a career and enough student loans to choke a horse yet there he was falling to pieces with every step Nakyum took in his direction.

"Hey, I thought you weren't coming," was the first thing Nakyum said in greeting.

Briefly taken aback, Seungho withheld a sigh. "That seems to have been the general consensus." Looking at the painters' half empty glass, he arched jerk his chin. "Whatcha drinking?"

"White Russian."

Chuckling at how Nakyum looked to be just a tad bit embarrassed, he leaned in. "Let me buy you another."

Like magic, the smile returned to Nakyum as the glass was removed from his hand. "Thanks." 

\---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---

Nobody knew how much time had passed as the music played on and the drinks kept flowing. Nagged into showing off the slight of hand he had learned as a teenager to impress his friends, Seungwon used Liza as his assistant--wowing everyone in their booths and those that bordered as he made a bottle cap disappear from inside his palm only to reappear inside an empty champagne bottle. Soo-min shouted for more; clapping her hands in perfect time with her encouraging chants and cheering--Genna and Baylee singing in chorus with her while the guys they had snagged at the bar just went along with their antics.

Pleasantly drunk and laughing without a care, Nakyum slumped against Seungho when Seungwon screwed up one of his tricks and a card fell out of his jacket pocket. Hand gently gripping at his bicep and face buried into his shoulder, he took a deep breath in; sighing it out with a smile. He was so comfortable. So at ease that nothing could bother him in that moment. Cocooned in a bloom of Seungho's subtle cologne with the smell of sweet citrus and alcohol punctuating the ambrette and peppery musk, he could have purred his contentment had he not been in public.

Only noticing the nuzzling when he caught Soo-min's indecipherable gaze locked onto him, Seungho leaned in to ask Nakyum if he was feeling alright. When the painter just smiled an "uh-huh" without letting go of him he knew it was time to sober him up. They may not have driven there and Nakyum didn't have class the next day but the monstrous hangover was motivation enough to get him to stop now while he still had a chance of dodging the nausea in the morning. Helping him to his feet, Seungho excused himself and Nakyum--not missing the burning questioning gaze Soo-min was boring into him with. He had figured out a while back that she had a thing for Nakyum despite knowing he wasn't straight. Little did she know that he had already made a move on the guy.

Barely making it outside with Nakyum on one side and two icey water bottles in the other hand, Seungho rounded the corner so that they'd be away from the chainsmokers hanging around the front entrance. When Nakyum was steady on his feet and propped against the wall, he uncapped the first bottle and handed it to the painter. When Nakyum refused with a bratty whine, Seungho clicked his tongue--pressing it to his lips with a scolding tone as he said in warning to not force him to make him drink it. Meek and apologetic, Nakyum took the bottle with a quiet thank you.

Holding the half empty bottle out toward Seungho, Nakyum wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "Here," he said. "You should have some too."

"I'm fine."

"You've had just as much to drink as me."

If his words weren't enough to convince Seungho, the look on Nakyum's face was. Maybe that's what he looked like when he lecture Seungwon and Mimi he mused as he took the bottle from Nakyum and finished it off. Leaning against the wall next to Nakyum, Seungho relaxed into the relative silence that filled the air around them--closing his eyes and resting his head atop Nakyum's who had stolen use of his shoulder once more. Burying his nose in the fragrant tousled waves that spread out like a halo, Seungho didn't stop himself from kissing the top of his head nor the fingers that twined together with his.

"Seungho...?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I kiss you?"

His chest throbbed as he debated his answer. "We're both drunk."

"Didn't stop us before."

"Nakyum..."

"Please?" Tilting his head up from where it'd been hidden, Nakyum's face was flushed with the softest shade of peony pink; lips swollen from how he'd been biting them. "I like kissing you."

"I thought older brothers were off limits." The words stung like salt on an old open wound but he said them anyways. It was stupid and petty--childish because he wanted it too but he had been drinking and Seungho could also be a spoiled brat when the mood struck him.

"You're the exception."

"What about tomorrow?"

Breath catching as their lips brushed and noses bumped, Nakyum fought the urge to grab him by his shirt and jam his tongue down his throat. "T-Tomorrow?"

"Yeah, what about tomorrow?"

Lashes dusting his cheeks as they flickered up, Nakyum's pools of golden green were met with unwavering earthen brown. "Tomorrow we'll see."

Not strong enough or proud enough to hold off any longer, Seungho turned onto his side--mouths crashing together in a deep greedy kiss that was all tongues and teeth biting and sucking on lips. Pinning Nakyum to wall with his full body weight, he felt a surge of pride as the painter melted into him with a whimper. Hands searching and wanting as they wandered to Nakyum's waist, he reached one up to tenderly cup the side of his china doll face--thumb swiping his pillowy bottom lip while his other hand groped appreciatively at his ass.

"I've been wanting to kiss you all week," Seungho rasped; his voice deep and thick with ardor as Nakyum tugged at his hair and nipped his lips between kisses.

"Me too," Nakyum sighed blissfully--more drunk from Seungho's heated touch than from the alcohol. "Seungho," he whispered into his ear with fingers teasing and taunting the sensitive skin at the nape of his neck. "Take me home."

Swallowing hard, Seungho tried collecting his thoughts. Fought for clarity and a sound mind.

"I don't want to."

"Why?"

Licking his lips, he pulled away just enough so that they could look each other in the eyes. "Because I don't want the only time we have sex to be when we're drunk." Kissing him, Seungho murmured against his lips, "You deserve better than a drunk fuck."

Moving away from him only a fraction more, Nakyum took Seungho's face in his hands, studied it for a moment as if he were looking for some sort of sign, then smiled softly. "You say you want me but won't take advantage of the situation. What are you, some kind of noble from the old country?"

Seungho laughed; his arms looping around Nakyum's waist to keep him close and Nakyum draped his over Seungho’s shoulders and rested his head against his chest. "I'm hardly noble. I'm just as horny and hung-up as the next guy."

"But I'm special..." It wasn't so much of a question as it was reassurance; confirmation that he wasn't hearing things.

"Yes. You're special."

"And you don't want us to have sex when we're drunk because I deserve better?"

"Yes."

"But what if I want you when I'm sober? Will you still say that I deserve better?"

Standing there in silence for a moment, Seungho looked down at Nakyum who was looking up at him. "If you still want me when you're sober," he began; kissing the painter on the forehead, nose, then lips, "we'll talk about it. But only when you're sober."

Smiling, Nakyum kissed his throat just below his Adam's apple before relaxing into the embrace. "'Fine. You win this time."

"Finally I win at something." 

They both laughed--the warm early summer wind and late evening hours passing them by as they stood there on the sidewalk happily wrapped in each others arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all, 
> 
> I was planning to really take my time with this chapter and make it a little longer but two things came up. First, I realized that by making it as long as I originally intended would jumble together some important character development and events so I split this chapter in half. 
> 
> Secondly, I needed to finish this before the NASA-SpaceX launch on May 27th because my internship demands that I be in Pasadena to observe the launch and I didn't want to make you guys wait until the 28th. So I'm sorry for the short notice and if things seemed a little rushed or unfinished. I tried to make the ending as polished as possible. I hope y'all enjoy it (especially the ending) and I'll see you for the next installment!
> 
> Stay lovely and stay freaky,
> 
> -Mars-Sunday, your friendly martian overlord


	8. Kaleidoscope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _This being human is a guest house_   
>  _Every morning a new arrival_
> 
> _A joy, a depression, a meanness_   
>  _Some momentary awareness comes_   
>  _As an unexpected visitor_
> 
> _Welcome and entertain them all!_   
>  _Be grateful for whoever comes_   
>  _Because each has been sent as a guide_
> 
> -Coldplay, _Kaleidoscope*_

............... _the following day__early morning_...............

Sunshine bled together with the chirping of finches, the cooing of mourning doves, and the quiet passing of cars on the streets below. Creeping in through the curtains like fingers outstretching from the palm in radiant beams, the golden gleam danced across Nakyum and Seungho--they both interlocked and secure in each others arms. Nestled beneath Seungho's chin with hands folded inward and cheek pressed to his collarbone, the painter stirred gently from his sleep. 

The muggy New York heat had already begun to set in despite how early it was casting them both in a thin veneer of sweat. It wasn't as bad as it was the closer one got to the bay area where the heat, humidity, and marine layer came together in an unholy nature to create a slick film of moisture that never left the skin and made clothes cling to flesh. Yet still, it was a hideous uncomfortable feeling permeating through every layer of fabric to cause just the right level of annoyance to the wearer that it irritated over time.

Whining in protest to the sticky heat, Nakyum tossed and turned--kicking off the blankets that covered him and cursing the sheets that clung to his thighs and calves. He wasn't aware of the other body lying beside him nor their own groans as they awoke. Growling, Nakyum sat up with his elbows propping him up; his hair in complete disarray like a chaotic halo crowning him. Dreary eyes blinking back sleep, he padded over to the bedroom door and turned the knob above the light switch to turn on the air conditioning. It was times like these that he hated living in the historic district where modern day commodities were hard to come by and didn't always work when they had been installed.

"You're bedhead is astounding," Seungho mumbled from across the room.

Eyes blown wide, Nakyum turned on his heels. "Shit."

Seungho laughed. "Good morning. How's your head?"

"Throbbing." Staring at Seungho in his bed shirtless and smiling bathed in golden sunlight that bounced from his long jet hair and fair skin, Nakyum could feel his heart in his throat. Could feel his face flush and hands clam up. No one had any right being that handsome in the morning. "You?"

"It's not too bad but I also had less to drink than you." Watching Nakyum as he watched him, Seungho smirked lightly. "Come back to bed."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"M-My legs are stuck."

Smiling, Seungho sprang out of bed--his near nakedness making Nakyum blush worse than he had before. With a wicked little smirk, he stopped a foot apart from the painter then--without looking away--knelt down. Hands gentle but firm, they brushed over Nakyum's legs; groping and palming the muscles as his eyes surveyed them while sneaking glances at him. Breathing a laugh when Nakyum's left leg jerked forward, Seungho looked up.

"They seem to be working." Resting his chin on the painters stomach, he gave a knowing quirk of his brow. "Maybe it's something psychological."

Nakyum could have choked on his words, he was so turned 'round. Those gleaming earthen eyes that he felt himself falling into. That silken hair of black ink that spilled over his broad shoulders, firm chest, and the sculpted curves of his back. And his lips. His lips that bowed into a devilish little smile. Nakyum was spiraling. Couldn't stand on his feet a moment longer because the strength to hold himself up had fled him long ago. Welcoming the support as Seungho caught him with arms wrapping around his thighs, Nakyum gasped as he was lifted and walked over to the bed. The smile he had been holding back sprouted across his face lighting it up like fireflies in the night as he was laid back down; Seungho draped over him with tendrils of his hair tickling Nakyum's cheeks and shoulders.

Sitting up enough to meet Seungho halfway, a shiver ran through him as their lips brushed and teased one another before connecting in a warm comforting embrace. It felt like home. Felt safe and right kissing Seungho; their lips parting open and tongues dipping into each others mouth. Nakyum could feel the summer heat on his back. Could feel it in his touch and taste it in his mouth as Seungho's tongue swept over his. It was intoxicating. Amazing and so serendipitous as if he'd never noticed it before.

Fingers tangling in the cascading rivers of black the flowed from over Seungho's shoulders, Nakyum teased his scalp and the nape of his neck. He knew Seungho liked it when he touched him there. Knew it drove him wild and pushed him over the edge when he wound him up slowly--tauntingly and lovingly so. Breaking the embrace for air, Nakyum breathed a happy sigh as lips found their way to his neck. Nibbling and sucking, they mapped their way up to his ear--kissing the skin just below.

"I like you," Seungho whispered into the space between them as if it were a secret only they could share. "I can't stop thinking about you, what you're doing, who you're with, or if you're taking care of yourself. You're always on my mind."

Choking on his words, Nakyum held him tighter--closer as if they would fly apart and never see each other again.

"I tried to ignore it. Tried to be just a friend. I really gave it my best but this is where I draw the line." Swallowing hard with hands sweating, Seungho pressed into Nakyum; heart pounding as he hid his face in the soft skin of Nakyum's neck. "I've never been the type to ignore or lie about the things I want and I w-want you. I want you Nakyum." Holding him tighter, Seungho measured his breaths. "Not j-just your body. I want all of you."

Not missing the tremble in his voice nor the faint stuttering of his words, Nakyum felt as if his heart had catapulted him to the moon. Seungho wanted him. No, not just wanted. Seungho desired him and not just physically but emotionally and mentally. He wanted all of him.

"M-Me too." Nakyum didn't even care about how he had stuttered or how his voice cracked. Cradling Seungho's head in his hands, Nakyum took a deep breath. "I want you too. I d-don't want to be just friends."

"Are older brothers still off limits?" Seungho teased halfheartedly. It was mean. Knew Nakyum hated the question when he felt a gentle tug at his hair but he needed to know because the answer would affect the dynamic of their relationship if they moved forward with reservation.

"Not you," Nakyum answered. Shifting so that they could see each other, he swallowed back the nerves bundling up in his throat when he saw the enchantment in Seungho's eyes. "Not anymore. Sorry."

Lips twitching into a boyish lopsided smile that teased at the dimples in his cheeks, Seungho kissed him. "Don't be sorry," he whispered into the embrace; their chests pressing and legs tangling. "I'm not."

"Neither am I." Bending and folding until their forms melted into one another, Nakyum breathed a happy sigh. He'd never experienced such bliss; such a perfect union with their bodies entirely accepting of the others--Nakyum's welcoming Seungho's weight with eager arms and greedy kisses to his lips, jaw and neck. "Go out with me?" Nakyum breathed; his lips swollen from the pressure of Seungho's devastating kiss. "Be my boyfriend?"

Seungho smiled with a nip to Nakyum's ear, loving how something so simple could make the painter whimper and writhe beneath him. "Only if we're exclusive." Another kiss to Nakyum's cheek. "I don't like sharing."

"I don't either."

"So yes?"

Nakyum shook his head, face flushed to his ears and body on fire when he felt Seungho press his hips into his; their lengths hard and hearts galloping. "S-Seungho..."

"Is it a yes?"

"Yes," Nakyum moaned, fingers tight as they pulled at his long hair. "Yes, it's a yes." Back bowing as Seungho ground their pelvises together, Nakyum could have choked on his lust. "I...I c-can't..."

"Can't what?" Seungho practically purred. Sliding against Nakyum with hands soaring over his body until their hands came together, he wove their fingers together then moved them so that they rested on the pillows above Nakyum. Watching him as he twisted and whimpered, Seungho felt a chest-swelling sense of satisfaction knowing he was the reason Nakyum was in such a state. Loved knowing that he was the cause of the hickies littering the young man's fair neck and the one that had made his lips deep pink--kiss swollen and flushed with color. "Tell me what you need and I'll give it to you. I'll give you anything Nakyum."

Already on edge, Nakyum almost stumbled into oblivion with the way Seungho whispered those sweet words against his throat. "Y-You. I need y-you Seungho. I'm not drunk anymore so p-please..." Looking up with pleading eyes, Nakyum felt as if he were about to be devoured and loved it. "Please. Let me touch you."

Desire coursing through him in torrents, Seungho released Nakyum's hands--seizing him in a crushing embrace that was all teeth and tongue and heat as one hand dropped to grab hold of his hip while the other gripped the pillow until his knuckles went white. He was sick with lust. High off of Nakyum's touch and too far gone to stop. Desperate for more, he moved to dip a hand into Nakyum's boxers just as the painter's fingers scrambled to undo the tie on his sweatpants. Chuckling breathlessly as they both fought to free themselves of their pants, he trembled when a slim hand trailed down his stomach before coming to rest on his painfully hard member.

"You're bigger than I remember," Nakyum smiled to himself as he appreciated the length, weight, and thickness of Seungho's endowment and the way teasing the sensitive skin made him shiver. "It's perfect like the rest of you."

Arresting control of his mouth, Seungho kissed him. "Don't say things like that. You'll make me cum before we even do anything."

Nakyum could only laugh. Seungho had always been so composed. So calm and collected it were as if nothing could faze him. He had never looked so frazzled or desperate before. Had never looked so undone and Nakyum couldn't look away--his hand moving to stroke Seungho's cock and tease the tip. It was wonderful; amazing even, watching him whine and pant and mutter senselessly as Nakyum tightened his grip at the base then swiped his thumb over the tip. Fingers of his free hand carding adoringly through Seungho's hair, he wanted to see him come undone. Wanted to see him cum just from this--burn the sight into his memory and paint it later so that he'd forever remember what his beautiful face looked like when he was overcome with pleasure.

Gasping an "oh" when Seungho moved his hand down to replace his--taking both their lengths in hand--Nakyum clasped onto Seungho. Hung from him as the pleasure that had sparked in Seungho spread through him like a fire. The stunted breathing and absent-minded kisses. The hand that reached up to pull his head back so that his neck was exposed. The sensation of sweat slicked skin moving against sweat slicked skin. The moans and failed attempts to say each others names. It was overwhelming. A bombardment of the senses that had Nakyum on overload.

Nakyum could feel his end coming. Could sense his climax as his nails bit into Seungho's shoulder and precum dripped from his cock. Yet still, he wanted more. Craved the man in his arms in a way he'd never had before. It was frightening and oh so powerful. It overrode all else and drown out reason leaving him at Seungho's mercy. He willingly subjected himself to such blissful torture. Anticipated the euphoria that would ensue because Seungho would never let him down. Would never bring him to the brink then deny him escape. Hanging on a second longer, Nakyum fell into his climax, cumming with Seungho's name on his lips. 

Head blank and nerves fuzzy as Seungho jerked himself to completion--he instinctively biting Nakyum's shoulder the way he had before with just enough force to leave behind a small pink bruise, Nakyum took deep ragged breaths in with a smile gracing his face. Hair a mess with skin covered in sweat, saliva, and cum on his stomach, he couldn't have cared less. Didn't mind it one bit as Seungho collapsed on him; his full weight acting like an anchor to ground him in the moment.

Enveloping Seungho in his arms, Nakyum stroked his hair--nose brushing against his ear as the other hand held him close. It was so strange how the world outside seemed to be moving by as if it were made of light while they remained frozen in time. Fitted together like lost puzzle pieces that had rediscovered one another, they laid there in silence soaking in the shared warmth and the sensation of their hearts beating together. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else could reach them. Just the sound of their breathing, Seungho's cheek on his chest, and Nakyum's finger aimlessly combing through strands of long damp raven black hair.

"We should shower," Seungho croaked; his voice rough and deeper than it had been.

Without thinking, Nakyum held him tighter. It were as if his body moved on its own--heart stuttering and brain panicking.

"No," he whispered--the word nearly a whimper. "Don't."

Feeling the tension in and sudden unease in Nakyum's touch, Seungho pressed in closer. "What's wrong?" he cooed with a kiss to the painters chest before turning his head so that they could see each other. Chin resting on Nakyum's sternum, Seungho reached up to cup the side of his face. "Talk to me."

"I...I'm just afraid. It f-feels like...that if I let go you'll disappear." Biting his lip as his fretting worsened, Nakyum nuzzled against Seungho's soft hand and calloused fingertips. "I know it's stupid. T-That I sound crazy b-but I...it's just...I don't know. I can't explain it. I j-just don't want to let go." Hiding his face in Seungho's hand, he blushed. "S-Sorry for being so clingy."

Smiling to himself as his thumb smoothed over the curve of Nakyum's cheek. "It's okay. You're not being clingy. I wouldn't mind even if you were."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's cute." Staring at Nakyum a moment longer, Seungho bit his bottom lip as his smile grew. He'd never felt so flattered in all his life. So wanted and adored. "We could always just shower together."

Nakyum was silent for a minute. "What day is it?"

"June twenty-fifth." 

"No, like, what day of the week is it?"

"Thursday, I think?" Worming an arm free, Seungho reached for his phone. Tapping the screen, he squinted at it while waiting for his eyes to readjust. He had forgotten to take his contacts out and they weren't so forgiving of him that morning. "Yeah, Thursday, June twenty-fifth. Why?"

"I needed to know if my grandpa was working this morning or had the day off."

"Fuck, that's right. I forgot you were the chief's grandson."

Giggling as Seungho groaned and buried his face in shame, Nakyum raked his fingers through his hair; loved how it felt and how it had Seungho almost purring his content. "That's understandable. I look more like my mom than him."

Eyes fluttering close briefly as he listened to Nakyum's laughter, Seungho smiled. "Tell me about her sometime."

Taken aback by the kindness of his words, Nakyum kissed the top of his head. "Okay."

"So what should we do today?"

"Mmm?"

"You aren't in class until the fall semester starts and I have the day off."

"You're not on-call?"

Seungho shook his head with a lazy rock from side to side.

Thinking about all possibilities and the things they had the chance to do before because of their conflicting schedules, Nakyum pondered the question for a minute then two then three.

"Well," he said finally, "it's hot as hell out. We could always go to the beach or Coney Island since you've never been before."

"Mmmm, that sounds like a good idea. I'd have to get a change of clothes from the apartment and my trunks if we're going to the beach."

"Sure. It's only seven-thirty so we have plenty of time."

"Really?" Seungho lifted his head, reached for his phone and checked it for the time. "Jesus. I thought we'd slept in."

"Kinda. I usually get up around six anyways because I had morning classes for a year so I'm used to it."

"Gross."

"Says the surgeon that's up at four-thirty," Nakyum laughed as Seungho squirmed whenever he poked his sides. "So beach and Coney Island?"

"Yup," Seungho gruffed as he sat up; his long hair tousled off to the left side of his face and face glowing. Extending a hand, he smiled. "Come on, let's wash up."

"'Kay."

\----------------------------------------------------------------------- 

The lively chatter and cries of patrons filled the boardwalk of Coney Island as the sun began to set over the promenade with globe lights sparking to life on the framework of rides and the bright candy colored neon signs of the restaurants and fairway flickering on. Excited cheers from the rollercoaster flew through the air as the cart raced by while the bell from the "Test Your Strength" game pinged in the near distance. The overwhelming scent of funnel cakes topped with powdered sugar and chocolate sauce and strawberries wafted alongside those of popcorn and spun cotton candy. Music filled the space between every vendor stall as street artists performed for tips from the crowd while robot impersonators stood on platforms dispersed through the boardwalk jump scaring unknowing passerby's.

With the commotion at their back as they walked down the decades old wooden steps, Nakyum smiled when Seungho outstretched a hand to him. Taking it as he stepped onto the sun warmed sands of the beach, he took off his shoes--holding them in his free hand as they continued along the shore. It all felt like a dream. Like something he was bound to wake up from in a mumbling fit only to find himself alone in his bed. Nakyum had never experienced something like this before. This bold proclamation Seungho was so casually making as he held Nakyum's hand just a little tighter in response to his fidgeting fingers. 

Nakyum was used to being the dirty little secret. The experiment. The question mark that punctuated the curious man's sexuality. He'd never been treated as the boyfriend. The partner. Someone that their lover would proudly walk hand in hand with through a large crowd where scrutinizing eyes could find them.

"You okay?" Seungho asked with a gentle tug on Nakyum's hand; he leaning in just enough so Nakyum could hear him over the crashing waves, seagulls, and children playing in the surf. "You've been quiet."

"I'm just..." Nakyum paused while trying to form the words in his head. He didn't want to say the wrong thing. Didn't want to give Seungho the wrong impression so he weighed his words. "I'm not used to this sort of thing." Tightening his hold on Seungho's hand, he lifted it slightly. "This kind of thing."

"Holding hands?"

Nakyum was quiet and that was enough--the silent omission hanging between them like a static fog.

"I'm sorry. That sounds...." he sighed, "I don't know what else to say but that it must've sucked."

"It did." Walking along the beach with the setting sun painting the sky pink and orange with wisps of purpled clouds stretching across the dreamy canvas, Nakyum stared at Seungho for a moment. He looked so relaxed; so comfortable and at home it were as if this weren't their first time doing this. As if nothing else mattered. As if _no one else_ mattered. Moving in close so that their arms pressed and he could lean his head against Seungho's shoulder, Nakyum took a deep grounding breath before his heart ran away from him. "Thank you."

Moving so that his arm was now wrapped protectively around Nakyum's waist, Seungho nosed at his hair with a gentle smile. "What for?"

"For being patient. For stopping us from having sex again while we were drunk." Wrapping his own arm around Seungho's back, Nakyum could feel his throat tighten. "For saying yes when I asked you to go out with me because I honestly thought I'd die if you said no." Fist grabbing onto Seungho's jacket like an anchor to reality, he sighed out his anxiety. "I really like you. I-I know I keep saying it b-but...I just...I don't know how else to s-show you how happy I am."

Swallowing back the lump in his own throat, Seungho kissed the crown of his head. "It's okay," he whispered, dipping his head down further when he felt Nakyum tremble. Turning to face him, Seungho swept his short waves back then kissed his forehead--noting how soft and warm his skin was and the way Nakyum breathed out a quiet gasp. "It's alright."

Sliding into his embrace with arms clutching Seungho and face buried in his chest, Nakyum breathed him in. Memorized the sound of his heart, the strength of his muscles, how broad his shoulders were, and the way Seungho's hands smoothed up his back to keep him steady. It was so beautiful. So precious to him that he wanted to still time, take this moment, and lock it away in a box. Wanted to hold onto him longer. Wanted to keep this happiness because he was still so afraid that it wasn't real. That it'd vanish somehow.

"Thank you," Nakyum whispered; the profession more to himself than to Seungho.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rubbing his hair dry with the towel slung over his shoulders, Seungho stopped where he stood when he walked into the master bedroom. Smile dimpling his cheeks, his eyes wandered over the slumbering form of Nakyum in his bed. Watched him breathe; his lips parted with the softest of snores escaping past them. Soaked in how his hair splayed on the pillow like a crown adorning his head and how his hands were clasped together--them resting on the pillow an inch away from his petite nose.

Nakyum was his. The reality of it still had yet to sink in but the feeling was there. The heavy weighed joy that pulled at the heart and made him feel like he couldn't breathe. That nauseating yet elating brew of gratitude and disbelief. He understood Nakyum's fears and uncertainties better than anyone because he had felt the very same emotions before countless times. Had been used for his status, his name, his family's wealth and influence. Had been reduced to arm candy; a trophy boyfriend to show off at parties then put away when they weren't needed. 

Nakyum was the first person to see him for who he was and still want him. Was the first to look past his family and see what else there was. It was frightening. Seungho had not been so emotionally vulnerable to anyone since the first time he'd been used and tossed. He wasn't sure if he could be everything Nakyum thought he was but he'd try. If not for Nakyum but for the way it made Seungho feel when Nakyum smiled at him. For that he'd do anything.

Tossing the towel into the hamper, he padded quietly into the dimmed bedroom, turned off the last two lamps, and slipped into bed under the duvet and sheets. One arm bent beneath his head while the other draped itself over Nakyum, Seungho's heart was in his throat. What was this? Why was the attraction between them so immediate and the pull so strong? How could such a thing be real? Could it be trusted? Was it okay to fall so quickly? Pushing the noise of his questioning mind to the side, he slid even closer--drowning out the chaos in his head with the soothing warmth of Nakyum's back against his chest. Seungho could breathe easier this way. Felt safe with his anxiety quieting with every passing moment. Closing the last bit of space between them, he kissed the back of Nakyum's neck then pressed his cheek to the soft supple skin.

"Thank you Nakyum," he whispered, holding Nakyum flush against him. "Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * _Note that the song "Kaleidoscope" by Coldplay is actually "The Guest House" which is a poem written by the famous poet Rumi. The verses are comprised of the different stanzas in the poem and rearranged so that they fit the instrumental melody laid out by the artist._  
> 
> 
> \-----------------------------------------------------------------  
> 
> 
> **Sighs** Okay, so as per my last End Note, y'all know that I was supposed to be in Pasadena to monitor the NASA-SpaceX launch on May 27th. Well, that didn't happen so here I am writing to you from my temp. housing because I have to stay until Saturday when NASA reattempts the launch (fingers crossed it happens). So, to cope with my disappointment and the mild boredom I decided to write the next chapter. Normally I wouldn't because work demands my full attention but because there's nothing much to do except wait I have found myself with some spare time on my hands. So I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. Sorry if things feel the slightest bit off. I was in a funky head-space while writing it because I had to pull myself out of work mode faster than I usually do. LoL.
> 
> But yeah, let me know what you think and leave your comments and feedback down below. Writers live on a strict diet of comments and critic so FEED YOUR WRITERS!
> 
> Stay lovely and stay freaky,
> 
> -Mars-Sunday, your friendly martian overlord
> 
> EDIT: So first was the relaunch that pushed this chapter back but then the protests broke out and the riots and I just couldn't find it in me to post this. I wasn't able to write. Wasn't able to think. Wasn't able to do anything expect beg the world to change it's way and let these people live. I am a white woman who's lived a privileged life in comparison to a number of my friends who didn't get jobs they were qualified for because of their skin and grew up in some of the worst places imaginable. I acknowledge this and as such I have been out protesting with my friends and fellow BLM members. I understand that some of you are just worn out from this exhausting year but I implore you to not turn a blind eye to these protests and the voices of those crying out. They need you. They need us to use the social graces we were given to stand up alongside them and cry out for justice. I normally wouldn't write something like this into a post here but this movement is very very dear to me and I want you all to know. I believe in transparency and honesty and I trust you, my dear readers, to understand this because you are all strong free-thinkers. So please, stay tuned in, peacefully and responsibly protest if possible, and donate to the multiple charities that have been set up to aid the BLM movement. All lives will not matter until Black Lives Matter so lets do this together and make the world better, safer, and accepting of everyone. This is where change starts--from the ground up and we are the roots so lets all grow together. <3 <3 <3


	9. Home

............... _Late Morning__mid-july_...............

It was sticky again that morning. Insufferably humid despite the air conditioning and window Seungho had cracked open the night before. Tangled together with skin sticking to skin and hair a damp sweaty mess, Nakyum lay asleep with one arm and leg draped over Seungho and his head on his chest while Seungho laid spread out with the sheets covering only one leg. Whether it be at his place or Nakyum's, they had spent nearly every night together since June. There where days when they couldn't meet up. Evenings that they spent apart because Seungho had work at five in the morning the next day. Sometimes Nakyum wasn't able to see him because he was in painting mode and Seungho knew better than to pull him away from his work. But they kept in contact on those days. Sent brief text messages to each other just because.

Yesterday almost became one of those days. They had made plans to spend the afternoon and evening together but Seungho had to go in for an emergency procedure. A woman and her husband had gotten into a screaming match while making their early dinner and she "accidently" threw the cutting knife at him--impaling the man in the chest just beneath his heart cutting the pericardium and bottom wall of the right ventricle. It was easy enough to fix once they separated the screaming wife from her husband who was bleeding out in the emergency ward when the EMT's had brought them in. Poor woman grew five shades paler than what she was as she sat there in the waiting room of the surgical ward hoping for good news.

Cracking an eye open as his alarm on his phone went off on the side table, Seungho quickly silenced it; settling back into place with a content smack of his lips and a little hum. He was so comfortable. Even with the heat and humidity, there was something pleasant about the weight and warmth of Nakyum laying there next to him. Something soothing and comforting in the easy even breathing and small sighs that escaped past his lips. Reaching up his left hand that was free to move Seungho gently raked it through the top strands of Nakyum's hair with eyes closed--memorizing the softness and silky texture. Lips quirking into a smile when the painter groaned, he tilted his head down to plant a whisper of a kiss on his forehead.

"Morning," Seungho murmured; chin and cheek resting atop Nakyum's head.

Barely awake, Nakyum groaned with a stretch to his arms and legs before curling back in around Seungho; kissing him on the chest when he was comfy again. "Morning." Yawning, he open his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Almost noon. I have to start getting ready for the M&M conference."

Groaning in protest, Nakyum held on tighter with his face buried in Seungho's chest by his shoulder. "Do you really have to go?"

"Everyone has to go to the morbidity and mortality conference; even your grandpa. And I'm presenting two cases because I lost two patients on the table."

Face peeking out from where it had been hidden, Nakyum could clearly remember the two cases he was talking about. Knew that the losses still stung and gnawed at Seungho's consciousness. It was hard for his confidence to bounce back from the first because he was fresh out of his internship and was flying solo for the fifth time. The second was harder though because they had to let go of both the woman he was operating on and the child she was carrying because it wouldn't be able to survive on its own outside of her. It was too premature and so both Seungho and Dr. Keating had to make the call.

"Do you want me to wait for you?" Nakyum asked, his voice gentle and compassionate as he massaged little circles into Seungho's chest with the thumb of his hand that was resting on his chest. Looking up at him, he could see Seungho considering the offer. "I don't have anything planned for today. I could do some supplies shopping and then meet you at the hospital."

"You're okay with that?"

"Yeah I'm okay with it." Flipping onto his stomach, Nakyum propped himself up on his elbows--taking in Seungho's faint smile that was caught somewhere between thankful and pensive. "You did everything that you could," Nakyum said, moving a hand to rest over Seungho's heart. A heart that was pounding as he took Nakyum's hand in his. "You're a good doctor Seungho and you did everything for them that you could."

Nothing betraying Seungho's expression despite the near overwhelming urge he felt to cry, he maintained his soft smile while whispering "Come here" to Nakyum. Enveloping Nakyum in his arms, Seungho felt at home. Felt safe and free of judgement or scrutiny. "Thank you," he said with a kiss to the painters head.

Knowing that Seungho had likely reached his capacity for words in that moment, Nakyum relaxed in his embrace; head over his heart and a smile on his lips. "So what time should I be there?"

"Probably five or five-thirty."

"'Kay. I'll be there." Nakyum held him just a little tighter. "You're a good man Seungho. You're a good person and a good doctor. Don't forget that, 'kay?"

Throat stiff as the words hit, Seungho exhaled a ragged breath. "I won't."

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After sending Seungho off with a kiss or two, Nakyum got dressed for the day--making sure he had enough canvas bags to carry the art supplies he needed to get. He had nearly exhausted his entire stock of canvases and had run out of every blue, pink, white, and orange paint he owned. The greens were low too especially the springy sunburst green that he loved to mix with a little bit of white when painting leaves because it gave them a sense of transparency and loftiness. His favorite brush he used for stippling had also broken at the base of the handle which had prompted a phone call to Seungwon in the middle of the night where he cried while ranting on about how companies shouldn't promise a ten year lifespan for their product if it wasn't going to last ten years. It was also while reflecting upon this that Nakyum realized he still owed Seungwon for putting up with his sobbing that night.

Texting Seungwon on his way out the door, Nakyum asked if he was up for a quick coffee at their favorite shop. When he sent back an adamant "yes" within moments, Nakyum could only snort a laugh. Greeting the small black cat that had taken a liking to him and always waited on the stoop for him, he gave the sweet creature a pat on the head, a scratch under the chin, and a long stroke along its back before leaving. Hoping onto the subway, Nakyum took it down to the Garment District. Stopping in front of a textiles store of a brief moment to admire the new red and sakura pink silks the owner had just put out on display, he tore himself away with a groaning sigh because he had a set budget to work with until the start of the fall semester when he got his financial aid package. Taking a picture of the fabrics, Nakyum walked a few more blocks down. Popping into the hole-in-the-wall art supplies shop that had paint peeling from the walls of its foyer and pipes lining the edge of the ceiling, he ordered four sets of canvases that would last him through October.

Just outside of the Garment District was a strip of art suppliers and specialty shops that he frequented. Picking up the paints he was missing and Pinkest Pink and "glitteriest glitter" Diamond Dust by Culture Hustle--a brand he had been dying to use since the Vantablack scandal--Nakyum grabbed a new set of paint brushes for oil paint and a separate set for water colors since his current set was on its last leg. Smiling at the kids in the street playing in the water spraying from the fire hydrant he checked the time to make sure he was on time for lunch with Seungwon. 

It had been days since they had last text and almost a week since Nakyum had seen him. He had just been so occupied with spending time with Seungho that he had turned neglectful on his friends. Soo-min had even gone as far as to threaten him with unfriending him on Facebook and Instagram if he didn't hangout with her soon. She had said it all in jest--not entirely serious about it at all. But it was evident that she missed him. Seungwon was more subtle about the whole situation but had made it clear that he thought the silence between them was strange. Had joked that he was a day away from visiting just to make sure he hadn't curled up and died.

Arriving at Bluestone Lane Cafe on the boundary of Greenwich a radiant smile bloomed across Nakyum's face when he spotted Seungwon and Soo-min sitting at a table on the veranda waiting for him. It really had been too long since he had last seen them and he missed their company. Missed how sassy and bold Soo-min was in conversation. How she spoke so nonchalantly about her conquests as if they were baseball collecting cards in between bouts of her venting her frustrations about her business calculus class. Nakyum missed how Seungwon would gode her on--his voice awkwardly breaking midway through his laughter as if he were still exiting puberty. Missed their monthly "wild night out" to the midnight showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show which they always dressed up for. He'd have to apologize for flaking out on Seungwon for that one. Already knew how he was going to do it too.

Hugging Seungwon, Nakyum felt something shift in the way Soo-min smiled when she rose to hug him. Something different in the curve of her lips. A change in the depths of her eyes that carried the unknown--keeping it veiled within the pools of her honeyed gaze. Her arms were just tense enough. Her posture more formal as if they spent the better half of their college years as friends. Fear creeping in along the frays of his mind, Nakyum knew she wasn't right. That something was amiss.

"God, it feels like forever since we last hung out," Nakyum smiled, pushing the intruding thoughts to the back of his mind hoping there was nothing wrong and he was just overreacting. Setting the shopping bags down next to his chair, he order his usual just like Seungwon and Soo-min had. "So what have you guys been doing since classes ended?"

"Nothing," Soo-min said flatly without thought; looking away from both her brother and Nakyum as she took a sip from her water.

Flummoxed, Nakyum stared at her for a moment before his gaze ticked over to Seungwon who tried to laugh it off.

"Same though. I've been lazy since finals. Liza wants me to start going to the gym with her because all I do is order out and watch Netflix all day, according to her."

"You _do_ get takeout and watch tv all day though," Soo-min snickered. Lifting her head when both men went silent, she looked between them with an edge of defense to her posture. "What?"

Nakyum wanted to say something. Knew now that there was in fact something wrong. But sometimes it was best to leave things the way they were than probe for answers. Mimi was like Seungho. She would talk when she was ready. Didn't like to be pushed and prodded into answering. She'd only lash out and snap then feel terrible for a few days and apologize later when her shame had eaten away at her. So to avoid that--to keep the peace--Nakyum just smiled gently in return.

"Nothing. You're right though and so is Liza," Nakyum said casually as the conversation returned to normal, "Seungwon does need to start going to the gym."

Seungwon clicked his tongue in retort. "Says the guy who can't carry a canvas."

"Never said I could."

The food arrived soon after and the mood continued on in its lighthearted manner. There were moments when it seemed as though Seungwon was treading on eggshells--glancing to his sister every so often; the gesture discreet and unnoticeable to most. Skin veiled with a layer of sweat and ice cubes melting in their glasses as the summer sun climbed higher, they talked amicably about everything and then nothing of importance. Rambled on from one thing to the next with no solid thread connecting the two thoughts. It was easy just as it had always been. Safe and open with a warmth between them they enveloped the space around them. 

It had been like this since Nakyum had met the siblings years ago. That awkward first meeting in English 102 with Professor Borg who could find anyway to turn a common verse in literature and argue it possessed sexual connotations. That one class was all it took for them. The most unlikely of friends, it was their strangeness that gave them all some common ground to bond over. It was their quirks that completed one another--one strong where the other was weak; they each lending their capabilities to each other without question. It was a characteristic all of the Yoon's seemed to possess from what Nakyum had seen.

"So what have you been up to now that you're free for the summer?" Seungwon asked as he polished off his nicoise salad. "You said you were thinking of getting a job over the break. You still going to?"

Swallowing his blueberry lemonade, Nakyum could feel Soo-min's eyes on him. "I was thinking of maybe doing art therapy at my grandpa's hospital. They have an opening in the paediatrics ward and the educational requirement is a bachelors in art with some history of behavioral science and I have both. It'd be nice to have some extra money and not rely on my financial aid so much."

"That'd be perfect for you," Seungwon smiled. "It's close to campus, you'd have some extra cash, and you'd be able to keep an eye on your grandpa."

"Wait, so you'd be at Sinai?" Soo-min asked though it was less of a question and more of a confirmation.

"Yes."

"So where Seungho works?"

Brows pinching, Nakyum calmed the shiver trying to spread through him. "Y-Yes. Why?"

Looking away, Soo-min shrugged. "No reason." Taking another sip from her glass of rose, she was quiet until Nakyum and Seungwon started talking again; her irritation growing with every word. "Are you fucking my brother?" she interjected.

Mouth agape and eyes disbelieving, Nakyum couldn't speak. "W-What...?"

"Are you fucking Seungho?" Her gaze was cold and unmoving as if she were daring him to deny it.

She knew. Nakyum knew that Soo-min knew. That if she did then so did Seungwon. Frozen in place, terror began to seep. The anxiety that had been gnawing at the corners of his mind had made its way to the forefront of his thoughts; spilling over like a mighty flood, sweeping through him in violent torrents. He felt exposed. Embarrassed and ashamed. Like he had betrayed them. Like he had dirtied not just their friendship but their trust in him. He couldn't look at them let alone answer. Breaths barely making it past his lips, Nakyum swallowed hard on the choking bundle of nerves balling up in his throat. He was afraid. So horribly afraid that he did not know how to answer.

"Mimi, stop," Seungwon said to her under his breath.

"No, I want to know. Both of them have been blowing us off so they owe us an answer!" Looking to him once more, Soo-min's eyes darkened. "Are you guys together?"

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You're in a good mood," Jerrie commented as Seungho stopped by the front desk of the surgical ward to drop off some paperwork he'd been neglecting to sort out. Without looking away from the chart she was filling out, she smirked. "You must be going to see him right now."

Giving her a smug smile, Seungho didn't even bother with lying. She and Michelle were like mother's to him and knew everything about him. Even knew what he didn't want them to which made hiding anything from them a moot point. They knew that he was dating the chief's grandson and that he was happier than he'd ever been because of it. Folding his arms flat on top of the desk, he quirked a brow at the plucky nurse; noting her new nurses cap covered in patriotic hearts with her fiery curls poking out in the back where it'd been tied. 

"Why ask if you already know?"

Fingers coming to rest on the keyboard, Jerrie gave him the kind of admonishing look a mother would give her bratty child. "Because you're my work son and I give a damn."

Snorting a laugh, Seungho couldn't argue with her. "Yes, I'm meeting up with him right now actually. I've had a shit afternoon and I want to forget about my screw-up's for a little while."

Expression softening, Jerrie gave him her full attention. "That bad huh?"

"They tore me apart as if I let my patients die on purpose." Head bowing with shoulders rolled forward, his head hung low. "I'm not perfect. I know I'm not and I don't pretend to be but I tried. I did everything I could."

Studying him, the nurse reached across the desk to take his hand in hers. "I know. We can't save them all. We do the best we can and keep trying until there's nothing else that can be done. It's not easy. Not for the nurses and definitely not for the surgeons." Thumb rubbing small soothing circles into the back of his hand, she wanted to give him a hug. To console him the way she did her five children when they were little and came to her sullen and distraught. "You were dealt a rough hand. You lost two patients in the first few months of your residency. But that doesn't make you a bad doctor. It makes you human."

Lips twitching into the faintest of smiles, it fell when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Looking at the screen as he pulled it out of his pant pocket, Seungho's expression crumpled slightly. Seungwon wouldn't be calling him on a work day and Wednesday's were almost always work days. It was either an emergency or something concerning Soo-min or their father. Praying for an emergency instead of news from their old man, he pressed the accept icon.

"Hey Won, what is it? I'm at the hospital right now."

"H-Hey, is Nakyum with you?" There was a tenseness to his voice that usually wasn't there. An edge to his tone that had Seungho on alert.

Standing up straight now, he mouthed a goodbye to Jerrie before heading to the elevator; his finger jamming down on the button as if to punctuate his unease. "We were supposed to meet after the M&M conference today. Why?"

"Soo-min snapped." Sigh mixing with an anguished groan, Seungwon tried to find the right words to say what he needed to. "She knew you and Nakyum were together. We both did but we didn't saying anything. I'm sorry but I tried to calm her down but she just wouldn't--"

"Seungwon," Seungho called through his brother's rambling. He could feel him starting to panic over the phone. Could see him now, anxious fingers running through his short hair as he tried to convey what had happened. "What did she say?"

There was a long painful silence that hung between them. It wasn't until Seungho had stepped of the lift and exited the hospital that he spoke. "She called him easy." Groaning again, it was audible as he swallowed back the sting of her words. "She said it'd only be a matter of months until you moved on because that's what you do."

Mouth agape as if he'd been slapped, Seungho flattened his lips into a line--breath long and deep with eyes closed. He had a feeling Soo-min would do this. Not only had he been neglecting them both recently but Soo-min could be particularly vengeful when slighted. It didn't help that she still blamed him in some way for leaving the family house. For leaving her there with a father that would soon rather marry her off than deal with her rebellion. But he had also stolen Nakyum from her. He had never been hers but she still loved him.

Looking around to see if Nakyum was there waiting for him, Seungho began to worry when he didn't see him. "He's not here. Seriously, what the fuck?" he hissed more to himself than Seungwon. "Would he be on campus? The studio maybe?"

Seungwon shook his head though Seungho would never know. "No, he doesn't go to the studio in situations like these. At least not the one on campus. Maybe he went back to his place."

"He wouldn't make it that far. He's probably in the middle of a panic attack right now."

"Fuck," Seungwon sighed on the other end. "I'm so sorry Seungho. I tried to calm her down. She's just so pissed and wouldn't listen. Fuck, I fucking screwed up."

"Won, I need you to keep it together for me. Please? I can't look for Nakyum and calm you down at the same time. Please, just focus, 'kay?"

Again, Seungwon nodded in silence. "S-Sorry."

"It's alright. We can talk when all of this is sorted out. The four of us. But right now I need you're help because Nakyum's somewhere right now feeling like absolute shit and likely neck deep in his anxiety. He needs us. Both of us. So please help me."

Pausing for a long moment to calm himself down, Seungwon swallowed hard. "H-He could be at Central Park. That's close enough that he c-could get there before the worst of it k-kicks in."

"Central Park..." Seungho thought to himself. Breath stilling, he smiled weakly. "I think I know where he is."

"You do?"

"Yeah. I'll call you when I find him, 'kay. Just stay calm and do your breathing exercises. If it gets worse call Liza, alright?"

Seungwon was silent.

"Won?"

"Yeah," he answered. "Sorry. Y-Yeah, I gotcha. I'll p-probably call her now because it's already b-bad."

"Okay. Just breathe and you'll be alright. I'm not angry at you guys so you're fine. I'll talk to you later."

"W-Wait!" Seungwon called before his brother had the chance to hang up. "I love you Seungho. I'm sorry about all of this."

Smiling a little, he couldn't help but forgive them. "It's alright. I love you too. Now call Liza."

"'K-Kay. Bye."

Shoving his phone into his pocket, Seungho debated running home or taking the train for a split second. Irrational brain not thinking, it screamed to run the entire length back to the apartment. He had almost listened to it until he checked his wristwatch for the time. The train would be arriving soon. If he raced to the gate he could still make it which would mean he'd find Nakyum sooner. Bounding down the stairs leading to the subway, Seungho was a mess. A flurry of erratic thoughts and unsubstantiated fear that Nakyum was suffering alone--all alone with the monsters lurking in his own mind. Apologizing to the woman he accidentally knocked into on the subway platform, he boarded; too antsy to sit down with his expression crumpling every time a stop was announced that wasn't his.

It had been nearly a decade since his heart had raced like this. A decade since he'd been choked with such fear. Needlessly recalling the yelling and screaming and the stinging burn of his eyes as he was chased from home that night so long ago--the sound of his mother demanding that her husband stop his tirade--Seungho could feel the same tightness in his chest. Felt his blood run thick in his veins and his palms sweat with fingers twitching. He was afraid. So worried that it knotted his stomach with invisible hands reaching up his neck to choke out the last bit of air. But he needed to remain calm. Seungho had to stay calm because he couldn't be a mess when Nakyum was likely worse off than him.

Every inch of him ablaze as the train stopped at his station, Seungho almost leapt through the doors as they opened. Taking the stairs two at a time, his lungs burned and muscles ached from the sudden exertion. The pitiful arches of his feet whined in protest as did his knees after a weeks worth of work complied with this abrupt sprinting and on unforgiving cement no less. Turning into the park as soon as he was at street level, Seungho ran down the familiar paths interspersed through the grand lawns and shaded woodlands. Bouncing from one side of the path to the other to avoid colliding with patrons rambling along, he felt no need to apologize and no need to slow down. Propelled faster as the screaming in his feet quieted with the numbing, he was in a mad sprint--legs bounding ahead with the summer sun just beginning its mid-evening trek through the sky.

' _Please be there,_ ' his mind begged. ' _Please be there._ '

Dodging the throngs of locals and tourists who crowded around the Bethesda Terrace for pictures, he took a hard right at the nearest wooded trail following it to the lake's edge. Continuing along until it curved inland just by a few meters, Seungho took another lesser known path that led him to Wagner Cove. It was a little spit of land that jutted out into the tranquil waters hedged by oaks with their branches twisting and spreading to shade both land and sea. Situated there was an almost forgotten gazebo made of shedded branches and shingles fashioned from pine. And sitting inside he would undoubtedly find Nakyum. It was his favorite place in the entire park. Loved going on walks there; sitting on the wooden decks edge with his feet dancing across the waters surface.

Relief washed through Seungho when he came to an ungraceful stop, eyes fixed to the backlit silhouette of a figure sitting on the edge--their head bowed low and shoulders hunched. It was Nakyum. He knew it was. Pulse quickening as he drew closer, Seungho froze when the gravel crunched under his feet. Watching as the figure glanced over their shoulder at him, he could see the flush cheeks stained with tears and eyes wounded and shamed. Legs moving him without thought, the space between them closed before he found himself collapsing next to Nakyum--Seungho's arms wrapping around him protectively as if to chase away the darkness. Tightening his hold when Nakyum roped his arms around his waist with a little sob as he buried his face in his shirt, the nagging anxiety that had be swallowing him the longer it took to find Nakyum eased. He could finally breathe now.

"I-I'm sorry. I'm s-s-so sorry," Nakyum choked, his tears dampening Seungho's shirt. "I'm sorry. I s-screwed everything u-up. I-I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry."

Cooing gentle shush as they swayed, Seungho leaned back until his back met the post of the gazebo. He cradled Nakyum; just sat there quietly and let him cry it out because he needed someone to cry to more than anything in that moment. He didn't need fancy words or apologies. Didn't need vows or pledges of affection. Didn't need someone telling him it was okay and that it would all blow over. What Nakyum needed was for someone to listen. To let him cry. To let him hurt and feel the pain Soo-min's words had inflicted. Nakyum needed Seungho as his lover and friend--as his partner.

Crooning affectionately as Nakyum moved to nuzzle into the curve of his neck, he rocked them back and forth. He stroked a hand through his hair while keeping the other wrapped firmly around Nakyum to lessen his trembling. He kissed the top of the painters head, pressed his cheek there, and muttered words of kindness. Nosing at Nakyum's crown as he whimpered little mewls, Seungho cupped his chin with one hand--his calloused thumb moving to swipe a tear away from the bottom of his cheek. When their eyes met, it was then that he could see the damage his sister had done. The grief in his eyes. The depth of the sadness and hopelessness that swam in those golden green pools.

"You're alright," Seungho said with a tender chaste kiss to his lips. "I've got you now."

Hiccuping a sob, Nakyum kissed him again--reached up to wrap his arms around his neck and hug him; their cheeks brushing and chests heaving in time together. "Seungho..."

"I'm right here Nakyum. You're okay," he smiled peacefully. "I'm right here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Inspiration: Coldplay's X & Y album, primarily "A Message"
> 
> ** _A MESSAGE_ **  
> by Coldplay
> 
> My song is love  
> Love to the lovers shone  
> And it goes up  
> You don't have to be alone
> 
> Your heavy heart  
> Is made of stone  
> And it's so hard to see you, clearly  
> You don't have to be on your own  
> You don't have to be on your own
> 
> And I'm not gonna take it back  
> And I'm not gonna say I don't mean that  
> You're the target that I'm aiming at  
> And I'll get that message home
> 
> My song is love  
> My song is love I know  
> And I'm on fire for you, clearly  
> You don't have to be alone  
> You don't have to be on your own
> 
> And I'm not gonna take it back  
> And I'm not gonna say I don't mean that  
> You're the target that I'm aiming at  
> But I'm nothing on my own  
> Got to get that message home
> 
> And I'm not gonna stand and wait  
> Not gonna leave it until its much too late  
> On a platform I'm gonna stand and say  
> That I'm nothing on my own  
> And I love you, please come home
> 
> My song is love, is love I know  
> And I've got to get that message home


	10. And I Flew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Playlist**
> 
> -"Visions of Gideon" by Sufjan Stevens  
> -"Fourth of July" by Sufjan Stevens  
> -"Enchanting Ghost" by Sufjan Stevens  
> -"Wallowa Lake Monster" by Sufjan Stevens

Standing in front of the full length mirror adorning the bathroom door, Nakyum tried to tidy his mussed hair that stuck out in unruly waves. There wasn't much he could do--hand falling from the damp strands as he conceded. Buttoning up the flannel shirt Seungho had sent him home in months ago after accidentally spilling coffee on his white tee, Nakyum dipped his head low with eyes closed and took a deep breath. It was soft and clean; smelled of fresh washed linens and warm cotton. It smelled like Seungho. Like those lazy early mornings they spent in bed together drenched in sunshine as it poured in through the windows above them.

Looking up at himself after he had buttoned the second from the top, he was embarrassed by how red his eyes were. He had cried so much; too much. It had to be annoying at this point even if Seungho didn't say anything. He was so kind and considerate he likely never would say anything. Red rings rimming the whites of his eyes and nose rosey from the small sobs he suffered in the shower, Nakyum chided himself in silence for being so quick to cry. He hated feeling so vulnerable all the time. Hated how weak it made him feel and the crippling anxiety of mistreatment that came with it. But why did he still fear this all so deeply when Seungho had made concerted efforts to show him that it was safe? That it was okay to feel what he felt and that it was just another facet in the fabric of his personality and not his sole identity.

Heaving a sigh, Nakyum reached up to tussel his hair once again, eyes peeking at his reflection in the mirror before quickly looking away. "I suck," he murmured under his breath. He often had conversations with himself in the quiet privacy he found at home or in the studio. Self deprecation at its finest, it was the only way he knew how to be. Nekyum never had thought much of himself. Both his grandparents and parents had tried to tell him otherwise but he could never see what they saw. Couldn't fix the image of himself that had settled in his mind's eye. 

Soo-min's words hadn't helped either. Easy... The word stuck to him licked a thorned bramble scraping at his skin. Was he easy? He hadn't thought so but he'd been fooled into falling for his ex. Had spread his legs for him and did the same for Seungho before they had even started dating. Maybe he was easy. Maybe that was all he was good for--a quick lay or a frivolous fling that'd end with the summer season and turn stale when fall begun. Coughing to keep himself from crying, he lifted the back of his hand to dry his eyes of any renegade tears that may have escaped.

"Nakyum," Seungho called from the other side of the door; his knuckles gently knocking against the painted wood.

Sniffling, Nakyum rushed to calm down; turned the tap on to splash his puffed eyes with cold water. "Yeah, I'm almost done."

The reply came too late--his body tensing as the entrance swung open framing his concerned partner in the light of the two lights illuminating the hallway. Nakyum flattened his lips. Sucked back his broken pride and hung his head with eyes burning from embarrassment. The only thing that kept him from falling to the floor was the wavering strength in his arms and legs stuck where they were planted—though easily movable if forced. He didn't want to look at Seungho just yet. Wasn't done mulling over the chaotic musings in his head. Nakyum didn't possess the will not to crumble beneath his devoted gaze that held no lies—no obfuscation. He was not ready to see himself reflected back in those honeyed pools—not ready to see himself the way Seungho saw him.

"I'll be out in a minute," Nakyum said quietly.

Seungho said nothing. Stood there watching Nakyum calmly; patiently as if he already knew everything Nakyum was thinking. As if he could see through the skin and bone and peer inside to listen to his deepest thoughts. His stoic jaw and folded arms sat in juxtaposition to the warmth of his gaze and the concern displayed by his upturned brows. He wasn't good at this either. Struggled with handling the messier side of relationships where emotions were involved and people were more likely to be hurt. But he stood there and waited. Waited for Nakyum to let him in. To give him permission to be his support. They both had their boundaries and they both had their stubborn pride that more often than not impeded them more than it helped. But he wouldn't push. Wouldn't force Nakyum to do anything he wasn't ready for because he understood that Nakyum needed space to muddle through whatever was going on inside.

So he waited. Waited for anything that told him it's okay to move forward. A glance in his direction. A whimper or a groan. The call of his name. All Seungho needed was a sign and he'd move. He'd become that support he so desperately wanted to be for Nakyum. Would be the shelter in which he could crumble without fearing he'd be found out. But Nakyum needed to make the first move.

Hissing a cry, Nakyum wavered. Couldn't hold out anymore. Before he could even call his name Seungho had taken him into his arms. Had wrapped himself around him in a protective warmth--holding him fast so that there wasn't a breath of air between them. Burying his face in Seungho's chest--taking in the depth and pleasantness of his scent and the softness of his shirt--Nakyum gave up. Stopped trying to sort it all out in his head. Stopped fighting with the voices that were telling him he needed to do this alone. That he'd be even more of a burden to Seungho if he kept relying on him. He'd pay Seungho back. Promised himself he would in the future when he was strong enough to be someone his partner could fall back on for support. But for now he needed to cry. Needed to spill it all out and lay himself bare because he would implode if he held it all in.

"I'm not easy," he cried. Fingers twisting in soft cotton of Seungho's t-shirt. "I-I'm not easy, I promise. Just d-don't leave. I promise...I'm not what she says I am."

Bending down to hitch his left arm under the crook of Nakyum's knee's as the painter sobbed, Seungho carried him down the hall and into the bedroom; being sure to close the door quietly even though Chief Kim wasn't home. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he laid down on his side with Nakyum tucked up into his chest; his trembling spreading and weeping growing. It was heartbreaking; excruciating to endure because all he wanted to do was reach inside, find Nakyum in the darkness of his mind, and give him light. Wanted to peel back whatever layers of his past there were haunting him, root out the ghosts, rid him of his fears, and bring him out from underneath it all for the gasp of air he so desperately needed.

Pulling up the edges of the freshly fluffed duvet until it cocooned them in folds of lavender and jasmine scented linen, Seungho hid them from the world outside. Spirited Nakyum away from reality--from the expectations, the letdowns, the paralyzing doubt, and ceaseless worrying. Holding him close with legs twining together, arms clutching, and breath mingling in the tight warm space, it was there that both he and Nakyum were safe. It was there that Nakyum's breathing calmed. His erratic heaving and strangled half-muttered cries evened out. It was there that the trembling eased into something less violent; becoming transient as it sputtered into nothing with every calm stroke of Seungho's hand up and down Nakyum's back. And it was here that Seungho could breathe with some semblance of relief after fearing nearly all night that Nakyum would slip through his fingers.

The little incoherent words mumbled against his chest. The pulling of fingers in the fabric of his shirt and how the neck and sleeves tightened as the cotton was knotted up taut. Outbursts of sniffles and whimpers fell silent on the tongue moments after they were born. Nakyum was trying to pull himself together. Was trying to be less of a burden--less of the catastrophe he had painted himself to be. It was unclear who or what had trained him to believe such lies about himself. That it were better for him to remain voiceless and not question the things said about him. He never argued, never objected. Never confronted or asked for substantiation. He had been broken. Beaten down so badly that he had stopped trying to get back up. 

It wasn't just Soo-min who had done this to him. No. She was merely the catalyst. The flash point that ignited this all; damage collecting over years of mistreatment all behind the facade of a forced smile--the mask uttering the lie "I'm fine" as if it were a plea for deliverance. Seungho never wanted to hear those words fall from Nakyum's lips again. Never wanted to be told such a blatant lie even if it was "for his sake."

Kissing Nakyum's forehead, Seungho held his lips there. Didn't move because even a breath of air between them was too much. He needed to hold him close. To keep him as near as possible--the want to melt together so strong he could taste its sting in the back of his throat. Fingers carded dotingly through the short wavy strands of Nakyum's hair. Toes traced the soles of his feet. Lips whispered his name like a prayer and warmth spread through him with the simple yet profound bloom of joy born from a kiss. It was chaste and devoted. Adoring and comforting as if a promise had been conveyed through it.

"I'm here," Seungho spoke, his voice gentle yet confident. "You can let go Nakyum. I've got you." Kissed his brow then eyes as tears ran from them in silent streams. "Hold onto me. Just hold onto me and let go. You're safe here."

And it was in his arms as they rocked him slowly keeping him close to Seungho that Nakyum fell asleep. Fell asleep and for the first time didn't fall into that well of loneliness.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nakyum could feel himself floating--hovering in his dream as if he were aloft above his slumbering self before the light bled in through parting lashes. Soul tethered to his body by the all-encompassing warmth blanketed over him, it coaxed him back into his melted form. Called him home to the doorstep of the living where a pulse beated soundly beneath his fingertips and whisper soft breaths dusted the bridge of his nose and apples of his cheeks. Like a ghost pulled back from the brink by the promise of something sweeter than heaven, he gleefully returned to the entrapment of folded blankets and bodies slotted together like puzzle pieces.

He was awake now with eyes still closed and spirit settling into its skin. Was keenly aware of all things as if each had a heartbeat--a pulse unique to the bearer that thrummed like the strings of a guitar. Body unmoving, it was Nakyum's fingers that first twitched and flickered to life; stretching and testing the feel of fabric beneath their tentative ministrations. Once his unsure hands became surer his legs moved, brushing the calves and thighs tangled in with his--parted lips breathing a wondrous sigh at the sensation of firm smooth skin forming to his with unthinking squeezes and shifts as they slid over one another.

The deep drumming of a familiar heart. The tantalizing scent of citrus and fresh waters coiling around him. The softness of silken hair beneath his cheek cascading down from above him like rolling rivers. That magnetic pull of lungs drawing air in deep--the motion swaying him with their climb and release. This was bliss. This was the lofty pinnacle--Xanadu, Shangri-La, Shambala made of bone, blood, and flesh. This miracle made real. Nakyum's ghost could happily wait an eternity in his body if only to hold onto this moment. If only to keep them a little longer; to bathe in this gentle light free of his troubles forever.

Eyes opening beneath the wash of sigh, Nakyum turned his gaze upward. Was enchanted by the fair skin upon which the golden morning sun danced upon. Dazzled by thick dark lashes and the bowing of pillowed lips. Craned his head up just a little bit more so that he could bury himself in the lockes of long black hair; drowning in the intoxicating scent borne by the tendrils. He was anointed by the press of Seungho's chin to his brow. Was deconstructed and made anew by the tightening of his arms around him; muscles flexing, tensing, and relaxing in absentminded response to Nakyum's jostling. Yesterday felt so far away. Drifting off into the oceans of his mind, he could see it disappear below the horizon as this new dawn filled his eyes with the most exquisite light.

Hands reaching as if to test the depth of realness of his own dreams, he almost couldn't believe that what he was holding was real. That Seungho had stayed. That he hadn't left and had held him close through the night like an anchor holding its ship fast in the wake of a storm. He was real and he was _his_. Seungho had stayed. He had chosen him. Hadn't let him fall away into the darkness. Hadn't abandoned him the way he had been abandoned before. Chest tight with something heavy yet light as air and painful but in the most beautiful way, the tears returned but with a smile as their accompaniment. Thumbs tracing the corners of Seungho's lips--lips he loved and craved, the air in his lungs caught in his throat with anticipation when Seungho began to stir awake. Their bodies were pulled closer together until hips bumped and knees knocked with chest flush to one another. 

"Hey," Nakyum breathed as if he were seeing the sun for the first time when Seungho opened his eyes and fixed his dreamy earthen gaze on him. Hands stroking the sides of his jaw adoringly, he swallowed down this new feeling bubbling up within him like a spring when Seungho smiled back--his lips cracking open with a lopsided grin that conjured his dimples.

"Hey," Seungho said back; the hand he had holding Nakyum steady now tracing delicate circles along his spine.

"H-Hey..."

Mewling quietly when Seungho craned his head down to kiss him while his arms tightened their grasp, Nakyum was finally home. Knew that behind this door waited compassion and understanding. Knew that where there had once been grief, remorse, and sorrow there was now life. There was assurance--understanding and acceptance in these arms that held him close. Hands and lips that made him feel cherished...precious. That reverent gaze fixed on him as Seungho's hands came to smooth up his back, ghost over his shoulders and neck, and weave into his hair.

No words were spoken as their lips came together once more. No apologies or well-intentioned scolding as they melted into one another; hands exploring and tongues joining in union. Their breathing synchronized and hearts ascended as vows were spoken without words and promises made with saliva, tongues, and greedy fingers that kneaded and grope. It were as though they had come to understand each other in their sleep. As if they knew what the other wanted to say before it was spoken and put salve to any wounds that had been left by the events of the night before.

"Seungho," Nakyum whispered; hands tangling in his hair. He was on fire. Brought back to life by his touch, his kiss, his voice. Made clean by the burning sweep of his hand over Nakyum's bare skin as his shirt was pushed up. "Keep me," Nakyum murmured between damp kisses to his lips, cheek, and jaw. "Keep me with you. Don't let go."

Seungho was drunk; wasted at the sound of Nakyum's pleading and the impassioned rutting of his hips. "Mine," was all he could managed. His bruising kisses trailing down the elegant column of Nakyum's neck. "My beautiful... Mine...."

Bending to Seungho's touch like a flower following the sun, Nakyum bloomed beneath him--a smile sparking and cheeks flushing peony pink spreading to his ears, neck, and chest. He had felt so broken the night before. So defeated and unwanted. Couldn't even look himself in the mirror without seeing some repugnant creature hiding in his skin. But some magic had overtaken him in his sleep. Some unseen force greater than he had found its way into his dreams where all his fears and self-loathing resided and banished them all away with the first sign of light when he awoke. Voids filling with something new--something too heavy and wonderful for words; something both frightening and welcomed--Nakyum let himself be made bare beneath Seungho as his shirt and boxers were stripped away.

Hands just managing to remove Seungho's tee, Nakyum brought it to his face--eyes closed in rapture; breathing in the smell of Seungho's skin as lips and teeth blazed a trail down his chest and hands groped appreciatively at his waist and hips and thighs. He was a mess. Pleasantly coming apart in the most wonderful way with Seungho's name stumbling from his lips like a prayer. Bites and kisses were planted to the plush skin of his thighs with extra care being spent to work a mark into the flesh bearing the upside down heart shaped birthmark on his left hipbone. His back bowed and lungs faltered when Seungho gently cupped his balls and tasted him--the flat of his tongue trailing from the base of his aching member to the tip.

It was painful how aroused he was. Torturous how gently he'd been wound up; the touches varying from light to heavy and heated to explorative. Moaning shamelessly as Seungho bobbed between his wantonly spread thighs, he almost screamed when he felt the slick touch press to his entrance. Hand shooting down, it knotted in Seungho's hair; tugged and twisted as his tongue breached him. Nakyum could have flown off the bed in that moment. Had nearly lost himself in the lustful haze if it hadn't been for the hand Seungho smooth over his stomach with attentive calming swipes of his thumb.

Nakyum had never felt more loved. Had never felt more desired and wanted than he did in that moment. Shuddering when Seungho pulled away, licked his lips, and leaned down to kiss Nakyum's neck, there were no words he could say that would convey all that he was feeling. His heart was overflowing. Bursting with something he had never known and it was to big to fit under his skin. It flowed out from him in cries and whimpers. Escaped in a gasp and radiated out from his nerves as they were set afire.

Hooking an arm around Seungho's neck, he kissed him as if they'd never see tomorrow. Whimpered between fervent collisions of lips and tongue when he felt Seungho slip a finger inside him then, after a few measured thrusts, a second. The familiar pressure and stretch. The pleasant tingling that crawled out from his stomach and spread over him. 

Nakyum's lips trembled with Seungho's name and their foreheads touched as Seungho watched Nakyum writhe beneath him. Drank him in like water in the summer heat. The sweat slicked skin. The rosey nipples that flinched at the gentlest touch. That graceful neck painted with his proclamation of adoration and devotion. The way Nakyum chased his touch every time he withdrew it; his whines satisfied when his hand returned to press three fingers into him.

"S-Seungho..." Nakyum breathed; his feverish gaze focused on Seungho's countenance as if it were the only thing holding him to reality. "Seungho...I..."

"You..." he murmured; their lips brushing. Shifting so that he could angle his fingers to hit the spot that would make Nakyum sing, Seungho was overcome by the sickening arousal his cries of pleasure brought him. "So beautiful. You're so beautiful Nakyum." Mouthing at his neck and jaw, Seungho rasped, "Wanna make you fall apart in my hands."

"Seungho!" Nakyum cried out again as his prostate was teased relentlessly. "I w-want you. I need...I _need you_..."

"We don't have any condoms."

"I don't care." Face twisting in distress, Nakyum nudged at Seungho until the man looked up from his neck and met his gaze. "P-Please? I need you. I want you so bad it hurts. Please?" Nakyum beseeched, kissing a path from his cheek to his lips. "Please Seungho?" Nakyum could tell Seungho was at his wits end too. Was cognizant of his desire and how far he too had fallen into the haze. "I want you," he whispered with a suck to his tongue mid-kiss. "Seungho. My Seungho..."

That was all it took. The words that brought Seungho absolution. ' _My Seungho._ ' The words echoed within him, trickled down his veins, traced the way back to his heart, and made a home there. He was his. Nakyum accepted him. Trusted him. Had just given him his heart and begged for his in return. Wanted him--all of him. Not just his body but all of him. He hissed sharply when he felt a hand cup his hardened length; moaned his gratitude while nuzzling into the crook of Nakyum's neck. It felt so good. So horribly good when his hand dipped below the waistband of Seungho's pants and stroked him cautiously as if he were going to combust.

Fingers retreating, Seungho coaxed Nakyum up from the bed--sat him up in his lap after Seungho had removed his pants. Clean hands coming up to frame Nakyum's face, he smiled with an expression of awe and devotion as his thumbs smoothed over his cheekbones. There was so much he wanted to say. So much his heart wanted to convey but his head couldn't put words to the jumbled up mess of emotions that were still so new--so raw--that he wasn't even sure of what they were yet just that he never wanted them to fade.

Gasping quietly as Seungho slowly slipped inside, they didn't look away from each other. Felt the trembling of each others hands and the clenching of muscles. Breaths became stunted. Lips quivered and lashes fluttered as they were connected completely; the warmth spreading like wildfires through them. It was so different from the first time they had had sex. Something had shifted between them. Some crucial turning point had been passed and now they were left floating through this new unknown.

Arms bracing on Seungho's shoulders, Nakyum cradled the back of his head with fingers teasing at the damp nape of his neck. Foreheads pressed together, he whispered, "Move."

A willing slave to his command, Seungho obeyed. Rolling his hips up into the tight heat, his mouth fell open without words to speak. He was so overwhelmed. So enraptured that all he could feel, all he could see was Nakyum. It was more than sex. More than making love or intimacy. There was something deeper at play. Something that robbed him of speech and left him helpless in Nakyum's grasp. The movements started steady and deep with a hard thrust to drive himself even deeper; loving the sounds it elicited from Nakyum. Spurred on by the pulling of his hair, Seungho placed a firm hand on Nakyum's hip to hold him down as he picked up the pace; lips diving to worry marks into the already kiss bruised skin of his chest and neck.

"S-Seungho..." Nakyum gasped. "Seungho!"

Laying Nakyum back down with both the painter's legs fastened around his waist to give him that perfect angle, Seungho was unyielding. Focused entirely on pleasuring his partner; unraveling him and watching him cry out his name. Drinking in those moans and pleads for him to go harder, deeper, Seungho didn't back off. Did not relent. He wanted to see it. That expression of euphoria when Nakyum found his release. Wanted to soak it all in until it took them both.

"I'm gonna cum," Nakyum panted; brows pinching as his hips inched further and further of the bed to meet Seungho brutal thrusts; the tip of his cock brushing past his prostate every time with well timed precision. "S-Seungho...Seungho!"

Gritting his teeth as Nakyum clamped down around him as he soared into orgasm, Seungho was only a handful of unsteady thrusts behind him before he came; unthinkingly spilling himself inside with Nakyum's name on his lips. Collapsing down onto the bed, they melted back into one another; limbs going slack and skin shimmering with sweat from the heat. Didn't move for a long moment and only then shifting so that Seungho could pull out--Nakyum shivering at the sudden emptiness but welcomed weight of his partner draped over him; his entire body weight resting on top of Nakyum. Wrapping his arms around Seungho in a protective embrace, Nakyum smiled, smoothed the hair back from his forehead, and kissed him there atop his crown.

"Mine," he voice rough and just above a whisper. "My Seungho."

Eyes closing with a childlike smile, Seungho sighed listening to his heart. "My Nakyum."


	11. Beloved of Mine

A strange power had settled over them. Touch and go, on and off, Seungho and Nakyum would succumb to a frantic urgency to be connected--the longing to not let go and hold one another growing ever stronger as the hours passed. Like frightened children clinging to each other in the dark for fear of separation, they stayed tangled together in the sheets all morning not minding how the heat caused the cotton linens to stick to their skin or the sweat that began to bead on the brow, neck, chest, and legs. Caught in this shared sporadic mania, it was the little things that had them clamoring to inblazen their affections into one another. The sweep of fingers. The tender press of hips to hips with a leg draped over Seungho's stomach. Noses brushing with lips whispering quiet promises between kisses. 

It was true enchantment. A spell from some unseen spector cast upon them, the willing victims. Drowning in the pleasure they'd fallen to, they were a mess of bites, kisses, pink bruises blossoming across their skin, and sweat mingling with spit and cum from their innumerable couplings. Desire still burning deep inside despite the flagging urges to give in to them, they laid there naked and unashamed--neither hiding from the other with tired dreamy smiles painting their faces. Hair spread out across the pillows like a halo, Seungho closed his eyes; focused on the butterfly light touch of Nakyum's fingers on his chest as they traced patterns into his skin.

"It's another heart," Seungho guessed; voice still rough from the exertion. Fingers toying with the untamed wisps of Nakyum's hair, his brows furrowed when the fingertips on his chest traced another figure. "Is it not a heart?"

Nakyum shook his head. "Nope," he said with a cheeky smile; body pressing closer and head nudging a tad nearer to Seungho's heart.

Eyes opening, he stared up at the ceiling--watching the fan spin with inquisitive thoughtfulness as the hand on him traced a connecting outline between the 'hearts.' His lips quirked into a smile when the fingers drew what felt like two little candy cane like shapes above the other shapes.

"Is it a butterfly?"

"Yup."

Laughing to himself, Seungho pulled Nakyum in tighter--holding him as close as he could. Chest to chest with the painters arms looping around his neck, Seungho kissed his brow. Hands reaching to hold him near, they smoothed down the elegant slope of Nakyum's back, teased at the Venus dimples at the base of his spine, and squeezed appreciatively at his hips; one hand wandering further without reproach until it found a home hung around Nakyum's thigh. 

Pulling the painter's leg up so that it laid across his own, Seungho could have spent the day like this. Could have laid there for another hour or so just feeling Nakyum breathe then spend the day between his thighs worshipping every inch of him both seen and hidden--their bodies coming together again as the sun went down with fingers weaving together and lips fervent and longing. But the spell broke as Nakyum fussed in his arms in a half-hearted attempt to break free.

"What are you doing?" Seungho chuckled; his hand coming up to pat down the wild waves that stuck out from his lover's crown in every direction.

"We need to shower."

"You only realized that now?"

Ignoring his teasing, Nakyum sat up; his legs arranged unthinkingly so that he was straddling Seungho. "Jesus, we're a mess," he said to himself when he saw all they had done to one another--the evidence plain as day written across Seungho's stomach, broad shoulders, and neck. "We really need to wash up."

"Mmmm," Seungho hummed appreciatively; hands coming to rest on Nakyum's hips as his own rocked up into the painter. Eyes alight as Nakyum swallowed back a breathy gasp, Seungho could feel the fever coming back to life in his veins. "You sure you want to wash up?"

Involuntarily rolling his head back as one of Seungho's hands soared up from his hip to smooth over the flat of his chest, Nakyum wanted to give in. To feel the fire consume him as he submitted to Seungho's knowing hands and eager tongue. Wanted to fall to pieces again and again until there was nothing left of him. Until Seungho rebuilt him in the shadows of the glorious light they'd been wrapped up in all morning from dawn break to now. He was so close. Almost relinquished control. Nakyum was so painfully close but pulled himself back from the brink; slowly backed himself away from the edge before he toppled over into that dizzying space where the only things that existed were him, Seungho, and that unbearable yet beautiful heat that burned so good.

"Shower," Nakyum rasped. Head dropping down with shoulders hunched as he braced himself with hands planted on Seungho's chest, he swallowed a deep breath that rooted him in this world. "We need to shower."

Licking his lips, Seungho smirked. The man had more resolve than he. "'Kay," he said with a gentle chaste kiss to Nakyum's cheek. "Let's wash up. Would it be too troublesome if I cleaned up with you?"

Studying Seungho's expression, Nakyum wasn't sure if he could trust those devilish hands or not. "Just to shower."

Seungho laughed. "Just to shower," he assured. "I promise."

"'K-Kay."

\---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---

The promise they had exchanged had been for naught as it had turned out that their hands and lips had minds of their own. After a quick romp in the shower Nakyum finally got his wish. Cleaning off first, he left Seungho to shower with a quick kiss to the lips as if it were already a habit. As if this were their usual way of doing things. Padding around his bedroom for something to throw on, Nakyum spotted Seungho's gray t-shirt he had worn the other day--the one with the small Balenciaga logo on the right breast pocket. Picking it up, he glanced over his shoulder at the door. Swallowing back the brew of excitement and embarrassment, he brought it to his face--taking a deep breath with a faint smile tracing his lips. 

Nakyum loved the smell. A balance of bodywash, light sweating, and a spritz of cologne, it was quintessentially Seungho. Smelled the same way he had when they first met and Seungho carried him to his apartment--Nakyum fading in and out of consciousness with just enough cognizance to remember the face and scent of the person holding him. It was the way Seungho smelled when they kissed for the first time--Nakyum's hands trembling the whole time from over excitement--and again that night outside of Cielo when they stood in the cool evening air together with him cocooned snuggly in Seungho's protective arms.

Fondness and gratitude spreading through him, Nakyum slipped the t-shirt over his head with the hem settling just below his hips. Borrowing Seungho's boxers without a second thought, he wandered downstairs toward the kitchen to make them brunch. Nakyum was so comfortable. So happy in his bubble that it was near sickening how wonderful and earth-moving it all was. He still didn't understand why this morning felt so much different from the others. Didn't know entirely what it was that had changed between them, just that there had been a significant shift. A change of course that set them down a path toward some bright unknown. Yet for the first time in a long time Nakyum was unafraid. Welcomed the uncertainty because, unlike before, he was no longer alone.

Lips pressed to Nakyum's neck, Seungho came up behind him at the stove, wrapped his arms around his stomach and pressed in lovingly with a sweet nibble to his ear. "What you making?"

Head rolling to the side with a shy smile, Nakyum could feel his heart stutter. "Just a simple breakfast. Some avocado toast and eggs with juice."

"Mmm, sounds good."

"Seungho, stop," Nakyum near moaned as the kisses became heated, trailing from his neck to his shoulder where Seungho gave him a teasing bite. "My hips are going to snap if we do anymore right now."

Snorting a laugh at his partners plea, Seungho relented. "Okay, I'll stop." Kissing Nakyum's cheek, he ignored the irate half-hard member in his sweats. "Can I help? I can make the toast while you do the eggs."

"Sure. Do you want bacon too? We have turkey and normal."

"Let's do turkey bacon since yesterday's lunch almost killed my arteries."

Nakyum laughed. "It's ironic that doctors preach to their patients about a healthy lifestyle and eating habits but eat such crappy food."

"It's the only thing available in the cafeteria sweetness," Seungho said casually; maneuvering around Nakyum to grab what he needed from the fridge. "You either eat the crappy food or go hungry."

Biting back the fluttering feeling the pet name left him with, Nakyum shrugged. "Or you could just bring lunch."

"Yeah, I've tried that and the interns or attendings grab whatever they want from the fridge even if you put your name on it."

"Well if it's that bad I could always just bring you lunch since it's close to campus." Catching the words only after they left his lips, Nakyum froze. He could feel Seungho's questioning gaze on him. Could sense something else there but was too nervous now to pay it much mind. "S-Sorry. It was only a suggestion."

"Would you?"

Looking up, Nakyum's expression twisted slightly. "Huh?"

"Would you? Bring me lunch?"

Completely enchanted by the wonder reflected back in those molten pools of earthen brown, Nakyum wanted to smile. "Do you want me to?"

"Do _you_ want to?"

Nakyum shook his head; still unable to look away.

"Then I'd love it if it isn't any trouble."

"It's not." Lashes fluttering and lips curling into a smile when Seungho kissed the corner of his mouth, Nakyum's legs fought to hold him up. This was too much for his weak heart. Whatever it was, it was too much and he wanted more with every passing moment.

Finishing their cooking in an amicable silence--their arms brushing as they worked and doting glances exchanged, the pair moved to the breakfast nook situated in rounded out window adjacent to the kitchen. Sliding into the faded blonde wood booth decorated with the Moroccan silk cushions, Nakyum smiled when Seungho did not hesitate to slip in next to him. It made sense that he'd choose to sit beside him rather than on the opposite side. They had been inseparable the entire morning. Glued at the hip and happily so as if they were newlywed's on their honeymoon. 

It almost felt as if they were newlywed's Nakyum had mused--gaze appreciative and reverent as he watched the honeyed sunshine spill over Seungho like waterfalls of gold bathing him in their warmth. His dark hair freshly washed and dried pulled back into a poor excuse for a ponytail that slumped over one shoulder. That fair faintly sunkissed skin laid over high cheekbones, a dignified nose, and perfectly sloped neck. Lips that could conjure his dimples with the smallest of smiles. Eyes like wildfires hidden behind a veil of thick lashes and a voice that flowed deep like rivers in the quiet hum of the night--sweet and comforting with peppering tones of mystery. He was beautiful. No, more than that. Not heavenly. Not some saintly being but just as awe-inspiring. Looking at Seungho in the light of the morning sun--all his airs and barriers forsaken, it had Nakyum's fingers twitching with the irrepressible urge to paint him. To capture his beauty, instill it in paint and canvas, and keep him like this forever. To remember this moment for an eternity.

Looking at his food in between quick discreet glances to Nakyum, Seungho breathed a laugh. "Eat your food," he smirked, pointing his fork at the painters still full plate.

Smiling back at him because the simple joy of being scolded so lovingly was more than words could relate, Nakyum listened and took a bite from his plate. They had dipped back into their comfy world where nothing else existed except them. Floating in this dreamscape that was all warm sunshine, laughs, and affectionate touches and nudges with their knees knocking teasingly under the tabletop, it all can to an abrupt halt with a loud solitary knock at the door. Pausing mid-chew, Nakyum looked to Seungho who was looking at him then the direction from which the noise came. When it was followed by another knock and then a third and fourth in rapid succession, Nakyum got up--wiping his mouth with the napkin before heading to the front door.

Sure enough, there was a silhouette on the other side of the multicolored beveled glass panels of the front door. They weren't tall enough to be his grandfather. And even if they were, the man had a key so he'd more likely let himself in than knock on the door and hope that Nakyum was home to answer it. Unlocking the latch, Nakyum was about to tell the likely solicitor that he wasn't interested in making any purchases that morning but his words fell flat on his tongue when he was met by Soo-min's hollowed gaze.

Face pale and cheeks streaked by the torrid rivers of mascara and eyeliner that had followed over them, there were traces of lipstick left on her lips similar to the rest of her makeup. Platinum hair spilling out from her haphazard bun, she didn't look like herself. Wasn't polished and preened like usual. Even on her "lazy" days she still put at least an hours worth of work into her appearance. But this morning things weren't as they usually were. This morning she looked the way Nakyum had felt yesterday afternoon--gutted and defeated, face tear-stained and nose rosy from crying. Yet despite her distress, Soo-min had managed to pair her Balmain heather gray sweater with their matching leggings and didn't mismatch her tennis shoes or socks. It brought a smile to Nakyum's face because even at her lowest Soo-min was still Soo-min; still overtly fabulous and not the least bit concerned how the neighbors were looking at her in her ostentatious Gucci red satin bomber jacket and baseball cap as they walked by.

"He's here isn't he," Soo-min said, it not a question but a statement. Eyes on the t-shirt Nakyum was wearing--the one she had bought Seungho in an attempt to get her brother to wear nicer brands than what he typically wore, she swallowed back her aching pride.

"Yeah, he is." There was a heavy silence between them. An unease that had never existed between him and Soo-min before until yesterday. Stepping to the side, Nakyum offered her a soft yet empathetic smile. This wasn't going to be easy for any of them. "Come on, you look hungry. We can talk over breakfast."

"It's almost one in the afternoon," she near scolded him as she entered; a sniffle escaping her as if she had cried the entire ride there.

"Yeah well we accidentally slept in."

"Slept in my ass," she muttered under her breath then arched a brow. "You know you look like a leopard with all those spots on your neck."

Flushing pink immediately, Nakyum couldn't think of a response. Reached up a hand instead to cover the hickies littering his neck.

"Seriously, you suck at this. If you're going to let my asshole of a brother mark you up at least tell him to be more discreet." Entering the kitchen, Soo-min hesitated in the doorway momentarily when she saw Seungho--his eyes going wide just like Nakyum's had as he rose; gaze questioning her purpose in being there. Squaring her jaw, she sighed. "We need to talk."

Lips flattening into a tight line, Seungho swallowed hard. "Yeah, I think we do." 

Waiting until she had sat down opposite of him, Seungho did the same; eyes not leaving her even when Nakyum had finished making her plate of food from what was leftover in the kitchen and had returned to his place next to him; their hands knitting together under the table for reassurance. Watching as Soo-min took her first few bites, Seungho tried to gather his thoughts. Tried to think of what he should say. He'd never been in such a position before. Had never been the one to get in the way of either his brother or sister pursuing the people they were interested in. What was he to do? Play the supportive older brother or the loving boyfriend? How could he do both at once? What would happen if he failed and hurt one of them? It was like walking on ice--it crackling beneath his feet with shards jutting up into his feet.

"Why'd you do that yesterday?" Wrong. Seungho already knew that was the dumbest question he could possibly ask even as the words escaped him.

"Really? I thought everyone knew," she mumbled; eyes down as she chewed her food. Swallowing, she looked up. "You took him."

Seungho could feel her grief. Could feel her pain, the resentment and hopelessness. "Mimi, Nakyum's..."

"I know. He's gay, I know that but still," she snapped--the insinuation and unspoken words hitting her harder than they ever had before. Striking with resounding force, it hurt more now because the truth was there in front of her. Her brother and bestfriend sitting next to each other with matching hickies and bite marks all over them--that love-making glow still humming around them like some obnoxious fog. They were even wearing each others clothes; another provocation to hurt her further. "I know...I know that he is. But it still hurts. He was the only guy that didn't make me feel like a slut. Like I was some new money trash trying to sleep her way through undergrad. The only guy I..." Choking on the words, Soo-min looked at Nakyum with a pained smile. "The only guy I've loved and he falls for my brother. How could I not be upset?" Heaving back tears, her smile faltered. "Why'd it have to be Seungho?"

"The same reason you fell for me," Nakyum answered. It was better to be honest than tell her a lie because the dishonesty would only hurt her more. "Seungho did the same thing for me that you said I did for you. You know how low I'd been for the past few years. When I'm with him, it doesn't hurt as much. I can actually breathe for once. The panic attacks aren't as bad as before and he makes me happy." Watching the tears streaming down her cheeks, Nakyum released Seungho's hand and took Soo-min's in both of his. "I'm sorry. I didn't plan any of this and the last thing I wanted to do was hurt you so I didn't say anything. I wasn't even planning on dating Seungho."

Chuckling at the memory, Seungho's expression softened; his hand resting atop Soo-min's--she moving to take in hers. "He'd told me twice that older brothers are off limits. I guess this was why." Thumb rubbing soothing circles into the top of her delicate hand, Seungho moved his plate and laid his head down on the table; chin resting on his arm with his head tilted so that he could see his sister's face. "I'm sorry that I hurt you Mimi. I'm sorry that you're hurting, that you're heartbroken and that it's my fault. I know you probably don't want to hear anything that I have to say right now but I wanted to tell you that this wasn't malicious. That this wasn't to spite you or anything like that. It just sorta happened."

Looking at Seungho through the wet clumped lashes blocking her vision, Soo-min exhaled a heavy watery sigh. "Everyone always falls for you. It's not fair."

"That's not true."

"Yeah it is. Even my stupid fucking friends in high school."

"You're stupid fucking friends in high school drooled over anything with money and a dick."

Snorting a laugh, Soo-min sniffled back the sobs that were trying to break free; her gaze not missing it when Nakyum picked up her's and Seungho's plates to move them to the counter. "I really loved him. Wasn't going to tell him because I knew it'd make him uncomfortable and awkward as hell but I just...I just wanted to pretend a little longer."

"I know," Seungho spoke softly. Free hand now coming to comb through her hair, he smiled. "I know Mimi."

Biting on her lip, she knew she had to let go. That it was best for all of them if she let go of this silly crush. But it hurt. Cut through her so deeply that the loss could be felt in her bones; rattling through every breath and pulling at her heartstrings like some Greek tragedy. But there was no future where she could do for Nakyum what Seungho did. There was no place for her in his heart; not the way she wanted. Nakyum was already in love with her brother. Even if they hadn't said it yet--likely hadn't because they were both anxious wrecks--there was still no mistaking it. She saw it in Nakyum's eyes that night at the club. The way he'd lean against Seungho, tilting his head up with a smile that was all awe and adoration. And she knew her brother well enough to know that he'd been hit by it too. There was no space for her there and the simple revelation choked the air from her yet freed her in that single moment.

"If you hurt him I'll skin you," she warned Seungho with a pout; Soo-min's head finally coming to rest on the table imitating how Seungho had positioned himself. "I don't care if you're my brother. You took him from me so you better do right by him."

Seungho smiled despite the threat she'd made. "I will."

"And make sure no one else fucks with him. He won't say anything when someone does but you'll be able to tell."

"It's not like you're never going to be around him again Mimi. You don't have to..."

"I know but you guys will probably be spending more time together so just fucking listen. And don't let that asshole professor around him," she said, her voice lower than before.

Furrowing his brows, Seungho just nodded. "Okay. I'll keep my eye on him."

"Good," she sniffled one last time; Soo-min willing herself to stop crying and acting a mess. Sitting up she took the paper napkin she'd been given and wiped the tears and eyeliner and mascara smudges from her cheeks. "Also don't be so obvious when you leave marks on each other. It's gross."

Seungho only chuckled. It may not have been the ideal situation to have this conversation but thankfully things had turned out alright.

"Okay. Whatever you say."


	12. Avoir su

............... _late August_...............

It was half past eight in the morning and Seungho was having an impossibly good day. Waking up early for his morning run, he came back to Nakyum making him breakfast wearing his old Stanford raglan. He loved it when Nakyum wore his things. Loved how they were just a little too big for his slim frame so the painter would roll up the cuffs while the tails of the shirt hung over the boxers he had also borrowed. It was perfect seeing him in the kitchen as if it were theirs making them both coffee and omelettes. Even more so when Nakyum gave him a kiss not even caring about how much had had sweat or how terrible he must have smelled.

' _You're gonna be late for work if you stay stuck to me,_ ' Nakyum had giggled as Seungho pressed himself into the comforting heat of his lover's back. Nakyum pivoting to the side so that he could cup the side of Seungho's face, kiss his cheek, and smile saying, ' _Go wash up and I'll finish making the food, 'kay?_ '

It was like he was holding onto the embodiment and personification of summer. As if the month of June had been turned into flesh and bone with eyes the color of tree leaves with the summer sun beaming through them. As if music had been made human to sing the most melodious words with a smile like a sunrise. Seungho could have stayed plastered to Nakyum's back all morning--his arms wrapped around the painters waist while he cooked; them both laughing sporadically during conversation at the silly things each other would say. Could have remained in that warmth as they sat on the floor by the coffee table in the living room--happily huddled together quietly watching the morning news. Seungho felt like he was being tempted by some unseen power when Nakyum kissed him at the door before he left. A kiss that lasted just a little longer than they usually did. That hazy indescribable smile on his lips. The spark in his jeweled eyes of golden green. The petal pink marks from the night before that dotted his neck and disappeared under the collar of his shirt. 

It was a dream Seungho lingered in the entire train ride to work--it only clearing when he was in the ward with his charts ready for pre-rounds. He knew he must've been making a fool of himself. That something in his behavior had given him away but what did he care? He was happy. For the first time in a very long time he was genuinely happy with all aspects of his life. He was doing well in his career, had amicable relations with his siblings, and was in a stable healthy relationship with someone who valued him for who he was. And to top it off the crazy attorney in his building had moved out because there were so many complaints against her and her threats against the Asian and elderly tenants.

Knocking gingerly on the door of a patient room, Seungho entered a moment later; waiting another minute to turn the light on so that the light didn't bother the person inside.

"Morning Ms. Leah," Seungho said with a kind smile as he pulled up her file on his tablet. "How are you doing this morning?"

Grunting and groaning only a little as she turned over and sat up, she returned the warm expression. "Hey there kiddo," said the woman with the all the affection of a mother. "I'm doing alright. My chest feels tight and the hot flashes are hell but that's menopause for ya'."

Seungho just chuckled.

"How're you doing kid? Last time I saw you, you were an intern."

"You'll be happy to hear then that I'm a board certified surgeon now," Seungho smirked--a solitary dimple punctuating his left cheek. "And I'll be _your_ surgeon for this procedure Lisa."

"Great. I get the new guy," she joked; her laugh turning into a sort of hacking as her lungs wretched for air. Wheezing at the tailend of the fit, she reclined into the bed; eyeing the mild concern in Seungho's wisened expression. "Don't look at me like that. We both know what I'm up against here kid. So tell me doctor, what's this surgery going to look like?"

Expression softening, Seungho sighed. "Well," he began, pushing his hands into his lab coat pockets after setting the tablet down on the table. "I'd prefer to wait until your daughter and brother were here to talk about it."

Lisa waved her hand at him as if dismissing the thought. "It's fine. Ultimately it's my decision so I'd like to ponder on it and come to a conclusion on my own."

"I'm not sure if--"

"Please, humor an old lady."

"You're hardly old," he countered with a slight tease to his tone. She was just as feisty as ever.

"And you're just as charming as ever. You must've been a handful for your mother."

Again, Seungho could only laugh. "Alright then." Taking a moment to collect his thoughts and organize them, he made sure he chose the right things to say because he didn't want to frighten Lisa but he also didn't want to give false hope. "The cancer is spreading to your right lung and blood stream. It isn't as severe as it could be yet so we are going to follow through with the transplant surgery for today but continue your chemo in targeted doses to get whatever has spread to the bloodstream."

Face crumpling only a little as he spoke, Lisa was quiet for a long moment; her baby blue eyes staring at the door with blonde lashes fluttering as she blinked at the revelations. "So it's in both my lungs now."

"Yes."

She sighed. "I guess I quit smoking too late." Pursing her lips, Lisa nodded her head slowly. "Okay." Another sigh came. "Okay. Well, we got a plan and...we got a plan. I just gotta hope for the best now I guess."

"I know this is a lot to hear right now but with the transplant your chances of surviving increase dramatically. Your chemo doses will be more mild and less nauseating. And after a year if the transplants aren't rejected you'll be on the way to a full recovery."

"What are the chances of my body rejecting the lungs though?"

Hesitating, Seungho caught the part of him that wanted to be more of a friend than a doctor. "There's always a chance of rejection. That is a possibility in every transplant case. But these donor lungs are a perfect match to your blood and tissue samples so I would say that the chance of rejection is low."

Exhaling a heavy pensive breath through pursed lips, she clapped her hands to her thighs. "Alright. Let's do it then. Cut me open doc."

Seungho snorted a laugh; thoroughly caught off guard by how well she was taking everything. "Okay. I'll have the paperwork brought to you before we start the prep. You weren't given anything to eat this morning, correct?"

"Not even toast," she said as she sat still for him as he checked her heart rate and blood pressure. "So how are things with you?"

"Hmm?"

"Last time we talked you were having a rough time with your siblings."

Clearing his throat, Seungho was somewhat surprised she remembered their last conversation. "They're better now."

"Hmmm, that's all?"

"I'm your doctor Lisa."

"Just a little gossip won't hurt you. Come on, pretend I'm your mom and tell me. All this talk about cancer and transplants is making me feel years older."

He shook his head, smiling all the while. "I straightened things out with my siblings and we're doing pretty well. We get lunch together every couple days and go out for drinks once a week."

"And? That's not all, I can tell. You can't fool a mother." Looking at him a moment longer, she cracked a sly grin. "You met someone."

Glancing over his shoulder, Seungho bit his lip shyly. "Yes, I met someone."

"Are they treating you right?"

"Yeah. Better even." Looking from her to his tablet as he wrote in the numbers for her vitals, he couldn't help the fluttering in his stomach. "They're a pretty phenomenal person. Don't know how I got so lucky but I hope to hang onto them for as long as I can."

Smiling with the same warmth and understanding as his own mother, Lisa swallowed back the swell of emotions she felt when looking at the young doctor. "You love them."

Seungho's lefthand paused--stylus not moving when he heard the words.

"I can see it. You do."

Heart pounding, something that had been hazy for the past few days seemed perfectly clear and who was he to argue. "I do," he said with a smile and voice nearly cracking. "I do love them."

"Well, I hope the next time I ask you about it I'm on the rebound and you'll have told them."

"Me too," he chuckled.

\---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---

Nakyum could still feel Seungho's breath on his neck. His lips kissing his shoulder and hands sliding down from his waist to his hips where they thumbed at the band of his boxers. Butterflies coming to life inside him in the most pleasant way, he stood in front of the canvas towering above him--visualizing the painting he wanted to create. His chest was still tight yet strangely alight and body on fire with the memorized sensation of Seungho's body pressed to his; the warmth they shared, the heat of his commanding touch, and euphoric release he felt every time they came together in a tangle of sweat and limbs clamoring for each other.

He could see them now--those powerful eyes. A gaze that had him weak in the knees. A gaze he never wanted anyone else to see. That predatory look Seungho would get when he slowly stripped the clothes from Nakyum's body. That undeniable thirst and fervent need. It was so palpable. So intense and lingering that it took a day to recover from just that look alone. Swallowing hard against his own desire, Nakyum rolled his shoulders back with a crack of his neck. Channeling his burning desire into something more constructive, he got to work painting. He was useless when he was hard and unable to concentrate and he had promised to meet Seungho for lunch so he needed to pull himself together.

Wedging his earpods into his ears, Nakyum scrolled through the music on his phone trying to find something--anything--that would help him convey what he was feeling. There had been this strange fog hanging over him for days; weeks even if he were being completely honest. It was nothing malicious that would plunge him into that dark place in the back of his mind. More like it was a calm abrupt realization. As if his entire life had suddenly come into focus bringing to light certain revelations he wasn't sure he was ready for yet. Fighting back those thoughts even in that moment, Nakyum landed on a song he'd only played a handful of times. A song he had stopped listening to after his last breakup despite having loved it before. Staring at the title for a long minute--the sound of his own breathing woshing in his ears, Nakyum exhaled a quiet breath as his thumb tapped the song.

Motionless as "Who Is In Your Heart Now?" by Studio Killers played, any residual negativity that had stained the lyrics was slowly lifted. Like cliffs eroded away by the tides and waves crashing along the shore, what had been fell away. In its place was something he knew had been there for a while. Something that had been dangling on the tip of his tongue every morning when he rolled over and saw Seungho sleeping soundly beside him. Nakyum knew what it was. Knew its name and was both frightened and in awe of it as if it were some higher being ascending from the clouds above. Wondrous was it because he had never felt so human--so mortal and vulnerable as if he'd been stripped bare with every flawed revealed.

Throat tight and chest heavy yet light all at once, he looked up at the canvas--the white fabric coming to life with a technicolor dreamscape pouring out from his chest cracked wide open; birds, butterflies, roses, and fanciful nonsense alike spilling forth like a flood. Mapping the picture with his entranced eyes, Nakyum could see every layer of paint, every creature in its place, and the pollen on the stamen of gilded lilies. Opening up his paint kit with a tube of nearly every shade of color feasible without looking away, he reached for colors out of instinct. His body moving on intuition and muscle memory as hands swatched and mixed colors then dove in with a paintbrush. 

This happened sometimes. Not often but enough times for him to know where it was going, what'd happen to him, and what it meant for his lunch plans. Shooting Seungho a quick text to raincheck for dinner, Nakyum gave into the magnetic pull. Relinquishing control, he touched brush to canvas and began--his movements uncalculated and chaotic as they built layers of paint, veiled hues, and emboldened others. With the song on loop he'd be like this for the rest of the day. Luckily he had had a filling breakfast that morning. Had he not eaten he'd be a wreck after this. And it was with his phone on silent that the world faded away and Nakyum was pulled out into the ocean of his mind but the rhythmic twinkling of synthesizers and hypnotic pounding of the bass. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

............... _Peachy's Bar, Chinatown__half past ten o'clock_...............

The room was painted in splatters of washed neon violet and bubblegum pink with wisteria hanging from the ceiling in enchanting troves that dangled just out of reach of Peachy's tallest patrons. Drinks flowing and music playing, laughter lingered with the hum of chatter in a cacophony of noise that climbed with every shot consumed. Relaxed into the booth they had managed to secure at the last minute before clocking off of work at the hospital, Seungho sat there only partially paying attention to what his friends were talking about.

It had been ages--eons maybe--since he had last gone out with his friends; since he had last spent time with anyone that wasn't Nakyum. It felt oddly surreal, sitting there watching the world and its people act out their evening in front of him as if it were all some off-Broadway production. The laughter, the clinking of glasses slurring together with the clattering of forks and knives, and the shouting of patrons over the music as they tried to communicate with the bartenders. It were as if he were experiencing an out-of-body dream while still awake--his waking mind hovering above him, watching with mild humor as it watched all the other humans doing human things.

"Hoho," Miranda called; her voice cutting through the static to reach him. Brows pinching on her freckled forehead when he nearly jumped at her voice, she surveyed him for a brief moment. "You okay?"

Looking to the redhead with breath withheld, he exhausted a sigh. "Yeah. I'm just feeling a little off."

"Is it work?" She already knew the answer. Didn't even have to take a second glance at his hand desperately clenching his cell phone to know what was going through his head. "Or is it because he hasn't text you back?"

Licking his lips, only his eyes dropped--their gaze boring holes into the back of his hand. "Guess I've turned into the clingy one," he laughed to himself. Seungho already knew that he'd become dependent on Nakyum and the energy his presence gave. But this was ridiculous. "He hasn't said anything since he cancelled meeting up for lunch. I know he's probably busy in the studio but still."

She could've said what she really wanted to. That he was lovesick and it was because he was so enamored with his partner that just being apart for a day was agony. Miranda had never been a romantic. Thought the whole idea of having one person set aside for you and that if you didn't find them you'd be doomed to loneliness. It was just an old wives tale parents would tell their kids to make sure they'd give them grandkids in the future at the expense of their child's sanity. Yet for all of this she had seen a significant change in Seungho. It had started in December the year before. He was less rigid. Not so heavy-handed with his words or scoldings when someone acted a fool at work.

By February Seungho had ditched his metaphorical "little black book"--the notion of which would've have been unbelievable years ago. He had enjoyed his bachelor lifestyle but, in the blink of an eye, had cleaned up and ditched the hook-up culture he had once indulged in. Even stranger was it when he ended things with Jihwa; a non-breakup breakup that had rocked their friend circle. It wasn't long after this that Miranda had found out about Nakyum--Seungho drunkedly spilling the beans to her when she and Kat came over for a videogame marathon on their Sunday off. Since then he had become softer around the edges. Still vicious when need be but kinder in private; sweeter and more mellow to antics that used to drive him up a wall. But more noticeably was how uncomfortable he seemed in his own skin when separated from his partner. Like an introvert being told that had to speak in front of an auditorium filled to the brim with people, he'd find any excuse to get out of hanging out. Would leave early every time they went out after work.

"You told him to meet us here when he was done, right?" Miranda asked; her apple green eyes stuck to him from behind her box frame glasses. He was a wreck, it was almost too sweet for words. "Hey, if you want to go you can. We're not going to force you to stay if you don't want to."

"It's fine," Seungho forced a smile. He knew Miranda saw right through it but he needed to get his shit together. He was acting like a brat. "Honestly, I'm fine."

"I don't believe a word of that crap."

Snorting a laugh, a first for him that night, Seungho sighed--head dropping down a little with shoulders hunched. "God, I'm gross."

"A little."

Hand running down his face, he gave another sigh as if to show how defeated he felt by the silence. "He probably won't be able to make it."

"You still wanna stay?" she ventured to ask. "No shame in leaving."

"No, it's fine. I don't want to smother him."

"Smother who?" asked a voice from next to him.

Eyes opening, Seungho looked up; his expression brightening near instantaneously when he saw the figure looming casually beside him.

"Hey," he smiled.

"Hey," Nakyum smiled back; the gratitude and devotion radiating between them igniting immediately. 

Watching as Seungho scotted in enough to give him a place to sit, Nakyum slid in next to him--knees touching and arms brushing. Not missing how Seungho knitted their fingers together until their palms were pressed together, he quickly relaxed. It was his first time meeting Seungho's friends. Wasn't even sure if he wanted to join them for food and drinks because he had spent the entire day lost in his work painting like a man possessed. It was only when he had come out of the fog that he saw the multiple texts Seungho had sent him; the last one stinging a little as his lover told him it was okay if he didn't want to join them. He knew what it meant for him to ask Nakyum to meet them. That he hadn't introduced his last two partners to meet his friends. But Seungho had asked him. Had opened up this window into himself--a part of himself Nakyum had never seen before.

Greeting Kat, Saad, Omari, and Miranda, Nakyum could feel his own anxiety creeping. Could feel it encroaching on the fringes of his subconscious. But he stomped it out. Smothered the little fires it started while giving Seungho's hand a gentle squeeze. This was the man he loved. Had realized it that day as the sun started dipping down below the skyline outside his window. He had come to terms with it--eyes gazing out the glass panel in awe as if he were seeing the world for the first time that night. He loved Seungho and because he loved him he wanted to be there for him. Wanted to support him and share moments like these with him because every moment was precious now. Time would move too quickly now as if were robbing them of itself. So he joined them. Took part in a round of shots and stuffed his fears and social awkwardness into a little box it couldn't escape from until he allowed it because this was too perfect to be spoiled. Too lovely of a night to let panic have its way.

"Thank you," Seungho whispered against his ear while Kat Omari spoke animatedly about how Air France was the only acceptable airline to fly into Europe on. Kissing Nakyum's cheek, he couldn't care about what the others would say or how they'd tease him at work for the PDA. He was happy and he wanted Nakyum to know it. "I'm happy you came."

Turning his head, Nakyum gave him a soft chaste kiss with enough lingering pressure to promise more later. "Me too."

\---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---

Laughing between half-baked shushes to each other as they stumbled in through the front door of Seungho's front door, Nakyum could have sworn he had moonbeams in his eyes when he looked at Seungho. Maybe he had too much to drink or maybe he was just delirious but he swore that Seungho was more handsome then than he had been before. That his skin was somehow glowing with hair that was curiously softer than it had been that morning. The subtle unobtrusive cedar and aqua basenotes of his cologne mingling in the air like incense from the rafters of some holy shrine, it was enchanting; numbing in its pleasantness.

Pressing Seungho against the wall, Nakyum raked his fingers through Seungho's hair as he kissed him long and deep; tongues soothing one another as his fingers removed the hair tie that had been holding his raven waves back. Revelling in the silkiness of the tendrils as they spilled over his shoulders, Nakyum parted so that he could admire the man. Smoothed his hands over Seungho's broad chest with reverent fingers tracing the line of his collarbone. He was beautiful--perfect and he was his.

Nakyum could feel the words threatening to leap from his tongue. Those three little words that could and would change everything dared to tiptoe at the edge of his teeth as if in warning. Giggling a joyful shriek when Seungho hoisted him up in his arms—Nakyum's legs wrapping around his waist for security—he was drunk off joy as Seungho led them to the bedroom. Tossing them both onto the bed, their laughter faded out as bodies pressed in close and eyes shut. 

It was safe here. In this little world they had carved out for themselves they were safe from all else. Could relax and enjoy the little things together—the brushing of fingers against skin, the nudging of noses to each others cheeks, and the calm steady breathing; breath that soothed Nakyum as it rolled over him. Tucked in beneath Seungho's chin in his "nook," any and all red flags and yellow tape that had erected itself fell.

"I love you Seungho," Nakyum murmured into the fabric of his shirt.

Seungho could only smile at the aching in his chest. "I love you Nakyum."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This chapter was brought to you by insomnia and Watermelon Red Bull!!*
> 
> **EXPLANATION FOR MY TEMPORARY HIATUS (skip if you don't want to hear it. LoL)**
> 
> Hey y'all,
> 
> So first I want to thank you all for reading this chapter update. Getting this thing out was probably one of the hardest things I've done in my entire life and that is no joke. I want to apologize for the long hiatus. I've been going through a strange fog of depression recently that has been the culmination of many things converging in my personal life--a family that's breaking up, my sister losing her dog (who was her best friend and baby) to splenic cancer (cancer of the spleen), and being isolated from my support system and not being able to go out on hikes which I use to help with my mental health. This past few weeks I've been dealing with some dark thoughts considering my own mortality and aging and existence. Like I said, some really dark deep shit. Usually I can pull myself out of these kind of things but it's getting harder now that I'm in my late twenties and thus I found myself spiralling. I tried to sit down and write but nothing would come. I'd just idle and be static while those thoughts ran through my head--my mind screaming that I was getting old, that I looked old, that I'm over the hill, etc. and I just would start crying.
> 
> Now, some of you (or maybe all of you) are asking "why are you telling us this?" and you'd be right to ask that question. You aren't my therapist. You aren't my mother or father or brother or sister. But as strange as this sounds I needed to say something. I needed a sounding board--someone to bounce these thoughts off of so that I didn't go crazy and you guys have always been so up front with me and honest that I feel okay saying this here. Am I making a mistake? I don't know; maybe. But honestly I feel like this is a safe open space where anything is fair game for discussion and that by talking about this I can normalize these fears because I know I'm not the only person to have them nor am I the only one to be effected so deeply by them.
> 
> I was only able to start writing again because of the flickering motivation inside me. The desperate need to do something other than sit in my room and linger on thoughts of growing old and dying and crying because of it. I'm still not back to normal. Some of you may have noticed the slight change in my writing because all of you are so astute that there's no hiding anything from you. LoL. And I don't think I'll be back to normal anytime soon especially if the quarantine continues and the restrictions become more strict. But that's okay. It's okay to feel and to worry but I'm trying to teach myself to not dwell on things that cannot be changed and to just focus on the now because my problem is that I think way too far ahead. On my fifteenth birthday I sat in my bathroom crying because I was half of thirty (facepalming myself so hard right now).
> 
> But yeah, that's my excuse. My reason for being out in orbit and not posting. And if you've read this entire message, thank you for taking a moment. I'm not sure if I made sense at all or if everything I'm feeling was properly conveyed. But I hope y'all understand and don't think I forgot about you.
> 
> Thank you and love always,
> 
> -Mars, your friendly martian overlord


	13. When Leonard Cohen Sings "Hallelujah"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Have you ever found something_   
>  _That you didn't even know you're looking for?_   
>  _An answer_   
>  _Though you didn't hear the question_
> 
> _When the plane is shaking violently_  
>  _You wonder will the sky change into heaven_  
>  _And if all fails_  
>  _Who is in your last thought then?_
> 
> -Studio Killers, _Who Is In Your Heart Now?_

............... _Early Monday Morning__late october_...............

"Come on sweetness, you're going to be late for class," Seungho said quickly as he exited the bathroom into the master bedroom; a towel slung low on his hips while drying his hair with another. 

The chill of fall had slowly overtaken summer leaving behind the warm summer mornings for the bitter bite of winter as evenings stretched and days shortened with waning daytime hours. But where there was frost there was also the welcomed heat of flannel blankets and mornings spent cocooned together; the gentle hum of the fan overhead acting as the only sound to reach them before the alarm clock sounded. Groaning as Seungho peeled himself away from their bound sleeping position, Nakyum remained hidden in the voluminous layers atop the bed as Seungho got a head start on the day. This was their schedule now. How they did things as if they'd been doing it for years like some longtime couple that was already domesticated and making each others breakfasts. 

Standing at the opening of his walk-in closet, Seungho stood there quietly--weight shifting awkwardly from leg to the other as chills ran down his spine. Glancing over his shoulder, a smirk tugged at his lips when he saw Nakyum curled up in the sheets and duvet with only his head exposed by the fluffed layers of bedding. Eyes fixated on him, the painter gave him an appreciative waggle of his brow.

"Stop staring and get dressed," he chuckled; the faintest trace of an awkward blush rising in his cheeks.

"Mmmm, I'd rather stay in bed and look at you," he teased despite his own blushing, a cat-like smile curling the corners of his lips as he sank deeper into the blankets. Watching as Seungho strided over to the bed, Nakyum squeaked when he dove in after him. "What are you doing?!"

Rather than answer, Seungho wrestled against Nakyum's squirming. Wrapping a leg around the painters' with arms secured to his waist, he laughed as his lover fought to break free. He was a lithe thing with strong lean muscle concealed beneath that dazzling fair skin. Hips bumping and knees knocking in the struggle, Seungho couldn't help the smile nor the humor he felt with every whine and protest from Nakyum. Tilting his head back and to the side when the painter popped his head out from the crumpled up blankets, his laughter faded with a breath before his lips were stolen; taken captive by the enchanting embrace and soft touch of Nakyum's tongue against his.

"Let's stay in bed today," Nakyum murmured between kisses; his arms and legs fighting to free themselves of the blanket. Weaving his fingers through Seungho's hair with appreciative tugs, he instead wrapped himself up in the welcomed heat of Seungho's firm folded form. "We can turn our phones off and just makeout."

" _Only_ makeout?" Seungho teased with a cocked brow; Nakyum's hardened member rutting against his as the embrace deepened.

Pulling away, Nakyum bit his bottom lip with an impish grin. "Mmmm, maybe."

Sighing, Seungho fought the sweet surrender he so wanted to give in to. The pull was magnetic--hypnotic and so overwhelming that it was near impossible not to concede. It was impressive really. Strange and wild how quickly Nakyum had learned how to unravel him. More than chemistry or love, it was an innate knowledge that had Seungho stumped. He was wrapped around his fingers now. Bending to Nakyum's will without so much as a fight. Submissive under the tender taunting touch of knowing fingers and mischievous lips that knew precisely where to kiss, bite, and suck on his pulse point just below his jaw. 

"Can you really afford to miss your morning lecture?" he asked, not entirely caring about the answer. Eyes fluttering shut with head rolled back, he could feel the fire flaring up in his veins. Jumping when Nakyum bit down on his neck, Seungho moaned his pleasure.He was falling apart. Growing impatient with each passing second with a powerful thirst scorching the back of his throat. "Nakyum," he breathed; hands gripping at the painters hips to hold him there as he rocked up into him. "Fuck, it feels so good."

Humming happily at Seungho's submission, Nakyum laid all his weight on him; pulled at his long hair more with lips toying with the lobe of Seungho's ear. "Can _you_ afford not to run your errands?" Choking on a laugh when Seungho pressed his aching member into his backside, Nakyum loomed over his impatient lover with a teasing smirk. "I have directed study this morning so I can skip. But what about you?" Leaning over, he brushed his lips over Seungho's. "Can you skip?"

Sitting up with a firm hand holding Nakyum flush against him, Seungho kissed him rough and deep; mercilessly taking over his mouth and dominating the painters teasing tongue. Nothing inflated his ego more than feeling Nakyum submit to him so willingly. Nothing gave him greater satisfaction than knowing that he was the only one that could have him this way; that only he could pin him down, strip him bare, and have him singing his name between breathless I love you's. The whimpering and pleading. The way his feverish eyes bore into him with devastating urgency. He adored Nakyum. Would worship him if it didn't embarrass the young man so much.

"Fine, you win," Seungho rasped as they rolled over so that he was now on top with arms holding him up. "Now tell me what you want."

Shivering at the command, Nakyum's gaze burned a path over Seungho's neck, chest, and stomach before it stopped. Eyes flickering back up to meet Seungho's feral earthen gaze, he tugged the towel free leaving Seungho naked before him. Pressing the flat of his palm to the full length of Seungho's cock, there was a fleeting moment of admiration; Nakyum appraising the man before him and finding him irresistible. 

"You," he said; voice almost a whisper yet thick with arousal.

Seungho only smirked.

\---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---

"S-Seungho," Nakyum mewled; the fingers of his right hand clawing into the pillow while his other shot to his hip to take hold of Seungho's wrist. Eyes screwing shut as his weak spot was exploited with loving precision, he moaned shamelessly; cock painfully hard and body aching from the innumerable couplings it had been subjected to. "I'm gonna cum," he warned; knees almost buckling with every thrust and tears stinging the corners of his eyes. It was so good. So unbearably good. "Seungho...Seungho!"

Legs trembling as his orgasm tore through him like a violent wind, Nakyum cried into the pillow; his voice a mangled mess as Seungho continued thrusting into him, working him through it until he released inside with a growl of his his own. Shivering beneath him as they collapsed onto the bed--a mess of sweat, spit, and cum, Nakyum laughed. Couldn't stop himself or the small tremors running through him as Seungho kissed his shoulder and back. They were a terrible influence on one another when it came to matters within the bedroom because neither could keep their hands to themselves long enough to accomplish anything. The heat would pull them under whenever the mood struck--releasing them only when their passion and ardor was sated.

"I need another shower," Seungho croaked; his voice hoarse and deep with lips pressing an innocent kiss to Nakyum's ear. "You too. God, we're a mess."

"We really are," Nakyum agreed with a blissful smile as he rolled onto his back then onto his side and into Seungho's open arms. Palms pressed to his lovers chest, he smoothed them up the sculpted muscles to the defined bow of his collarbone then up and along his neck where they met the silken strands of his damp hair. "You're so handsome," Nakyum mused, his thumbs gently tracing the defined line of his jaw while his fingers massaged the scalp. "It's like you're not even real."

Snorting a laugh, Seungho pulled him in close with a kiss to space between Nakyum's golden green eyes. "That's just the mind blowing sex talking."

Nakyum just laughed in return.

Maybe it was. Chances were it wasn't. He had always thought Seungho was unrightfully handsome. That no one had any business being as beautiful or as charming as him. It was any wonder how they had wound up together when he could have anyone he so pleased. Nakyum could see it now, Seungho during his undergrad years flanked with suitors biding for his attention--all clamoring over one another just for a chance that he'd look their way. From what Miranda had told him, Seungho had been quite popular during his university days. He just as many people begging for his attention as he did bedmates and Nakyum couldn't blame them nor him. Had he been a student at the same time and school as Seungho he likely would have been one of the many admirers watching from afar.

But Seungho was his. He had chosen him out of everyone else. Had set him apart and marked Nakyum as special for reasons Nakyum still did not understand. His artistic talent alone wasn't near enough in his mind to win such a handsome man's favor. And his anxious behavior and skittishness was a turn-off more often than it was a turn-on. So what was it that Seungho liked about him? Why would someone as likeable and personable as him take interest in the art school misfit with abandonment issues? The thoughts tumbled through his head silently through without souring the mood. Nakyum had become quite skilled in letting things go whenever he was with Seungho. It was like magic the way they would slide off his shoulders and into the haze.

Swallowing back the rasp in his throat, Nakyum breathed a smile; his fingers carding through Seungho's hair. "So what are we doing today?"

Cheeks dimpling with a humored smirk, Seungho lifted his head to peer over Nakyum's shoulder at the alarm clock. "Well if we shower now we won't have to cancel lunch with Mimi and Won."

"Mmmm, true," Nakyum said lazily. Eyes closing, he tucked himself in under Seungho's chin with his cheek and forehead pressed to his chest. "But it's so comfy and warm here."

"I know sweetness but we can't stay in bed all day when we already have plans."

"You say that but you already skipped doing errands and I missed class just to stay in bed with you."

"Punk," Seungho laughed as he tickled Nakyum's sides; smiling himself when the painter squirmed in his grasp. "Come on, we promised them we'd all meet up on the next afternoon we both had off."

"Fine," Nakyum droned, not moving from his nook despite his concession. "Wanna shower together?"

"Not on your life," Seungho snarked. "I can feel that shit-eating grin you know."

"Can't blame me for trying."

Rolling his eyes, Seungho kissed the top of his head. "Five minutes and then we got to get moving. 'Kay?"

"'Kay."

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I really don't want to be doing this," Seungho protested as Soo-min led both her brothers and Nakyum down Fifth Avenue as if they were on parade. "I don't need anything. I don't even want to celebrate this year."

Clicking her tongue she rolled her eyes up with a sigh. "You say that every year Hoho."

"Yeah, and you still ignore me and buy me something."

"Socks don't count as a gift," she countered. "And I only get you those because you'll reject anything else so this year I'm holding you hostage and making you pick something. It's my own money and I can spend it however I want so don't try to weasel your way out of it."

Glancing to Nakyum, Seungho raised a pleading pressing brow.

"You really think I'm going to argue with her?" Nakyum said tersely in hushed tones.

"You're supposed to be on my side," he whispered back with a bite to his tone that bordered indignation.

"I am on your side."

"Then why are you siding with Mimi?!"

"Because it's a birthday gift for god's sake." Watching as Seungho sighed out through his nose with a frustrated roll of his eyes, Nakyum took his hand in his own; giving it a squeeze as he stood on his toes to kiss his jaw. "Just go along with it. She's been wanting to do this for you so let her, 'kay. It's not going to hurt you to let Mimi buy you something."

Still peeved though not enough to protest any further, Seungho gave up control. "Fine. Just make sure it's nothing too ridiculous. She won't listen to me."

"She's not going to buy you something you don't like or need."

"You say that..."

"It'll be fine," Nakyum chuckled; loving the way Seungho casually slipped his arm around his slim waist as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Butterflies collecting in his stomach and chest, he huddled in close to Seungho with cheeks stung pink from the onset winter winds. "I hope she makes you try on some suits."

"You want to see me in a suit?"

Nakyum shook his head. "Mhmm. It'd be so hot."

Staring at him for a moment while Nakyum looked ahead, Seungho just smirked; the blush rising beneath his cheeks hidden by the rosiness conjured by the October chill.

"I guess I'm trying on some suits then."

It was a first for Seungho; celebrating his birthday half a week early and enjoying it. He hardly ever enjoyed anything associated with that day in particular. It wasn't as if anything traumatic or saddening had happened precisely on November first. It wasn't as if his birth made it any more important or any less. Wasn't as if he had ever thought himself to be more important and worth the pomp and circumstance. Quiet and stoic as a child, Seungho had never been one to ask for anything. Reacting adversely when given something, he was the strange one of the three siblings. Always kept to himself and never made any waves. Tried to live up to the expectations that had been placed on him so that his brother and sister wouldn't have to. What was so important about being born? It happened every minute of every day; every second even. Why was he important?

Seungho would never understand it; why people wanted to celebrate his birthday when he had done nothing of importance. At least he believed he hadn't. Could never wrap his head around why cake and presents and awkward pictures of him blowing out candles were necessary. But it made the people around him happy. Gave Miranda, Kat, Saad, and Omari something to tease him about and plan in their spare time because apparently it was worthwhile to them. It made Seungwon and Soo-min happy beyond words to celebrate him living for another year probably because there had been a time when he had been so depressed that he almost hadn't made it into the new year. Those days after their mother had passed had been hard enough. Being thrown out of his childhood home by his father had only made it worse.

The crippling anxiety of how he was going to make ends meet while trying to fall asleep in his old mold and roach infested apartment during his undergrad years. The hunger he had endured while pinching pennies so that he'd have enough to cover the bus fair to school. Even when the financial aid kicked in it had all gone to rent and health insurance and his phone and internet bill. It was at his lowest that he'd think about his mother. That he'd reflect on the family trips during the summer and the sparklers she'd put on his birthday cake when he was little--the crackling sparks lighting up his eyes as if it were magic. 

There had been a time when waking up felt like a chore. As if it weren't worth it and he had come so close to dropping out. Had come so close to turning his back on it all because the need to eat and sleep without waking from a panic attack grew stronger every day. But then he found Miranda and Kat. He had made friends with Jihwa who, despite his vanity and gloating, footed the bill to move him into an apartment that wasn't crumbling from the inside out. Why was any one day more important than the others when it was a miracle that he was even there?

' _I really should apologize to Jihwa for breaking things off the way I did,_ ' Seungho mused to himself as he changed into the suit Seungwon and Mimi had picked out for him. He wasn't going to buy it or let them for that matter. He already had three in his closet and that was more than enough. But he'd put up with it for Nakyum. 

Smoothing down the collar of the black virgin wool Dior suit blazer, Seungho stared at his image in the mirror. Looked himself over as if the face reflected back wasn't one he knew anymore. He couldn't remember the last time he had been dressed so primly. Couldn't see the image clearly in his head but he remember an orchestra playing The Blue Danube, lively chatter, and champagne glasses clinking. He recalled his mother wearing a red beaded dress with slender straps and plum lipstick. She loved red. Everything was red. Her shoes, her favorite purses, her car, and the backpack she'd use when they went to Disneyworld as children. There was always a fresh bouquet of poppies in her drawing room during the summer and silk poppy on the lapel of her favorite winter coat.

Stepping into the present and out of the past, Seungho exited the dressing room--welcomed into the private viewing room by excited shrieks from his sister. She loved dressing him up. It was one of her favorite things to do because, unlike her and Seungwon, Seungho hardly ever put much effort into what he wore on a day to day basis. He'd rotate through the same three pairs of pants, shirts, and a couple jackets; maybe wear his black joggers two days in a row if he was feeling particularly lazy. For them, him dressing up was as rare as a solar eclipse. Yet it was worth it when Seungho saw the reaction it got out of Nakyum.

Eyes wide and wonderstruck with mouth ajar, he rose from the couch he was sitting on with Seungwon. Nakyum closed the space between them--his gaze not once leaving Seungho as the palms of his tentative hands touched his chest as if to confirm that what he was seeing was real. Drinking him in, Nakyum silently swallowed back the strange mingling of bashfulness and raw desire that came roaring to life in him. Moving on muscle memory from having committed every curve, bend, and straight of Seungho's body to memory, his hands wandered--eyes glimmering and words lost to wonder.

Glancing up to his siblings who had decided to give them some privacy as the went to the complimentary bar for a glass of champagne, Seungho anxiously looked back to Nakyum who had yet to say anything. He wasn't used to this sort of attention. Wasn't mentally prepared for this kind of wordless praise or adoration. It made his sick to his stomach with nerves like a teenager going to their first high school dance their crush; the same crush they had dreamt of kissing while practicing on their pillow. Hands clenching then releasing, Seungho placed one on  
Nakyum's hip while the other smoothed up his chest and throat to cup the side of his face.

"W-Well," he stammered with a timorous half smile. "Say something."

"How?" Nakyum mused. "You're too..." he paused, licking his lips as he gathered his thoughts. "You're like a dream." Smiling softly, Nakyum looked up at Seungho; hands reaching up to undo his long hair from the ponytail it was in, letting his long waves flow over his shoulders. "And your my dream."

Seungho could feel his heart beat out of his chest as the declaration. So simple yet so powerful, the words washed over him--drowning him in their depths. He had never been someone's person. Didn't much have the patience for it when times were good and didn't even dare think about it when times were bad. His life had gone from one extreme to the other and only now was he standing firmly on his two feet--certain that the ground wouldn't fall out from underneath him. All of those years he had spent fooling around with casual partners and one-night stands hadn't readied him for this. It had been months since Nakyum had said those three little words. Had been even longer since they had started dating but even so, it was the looks like the one Nakyum had in that moment that had Seungho feeling like a teenager in love all over again.

Hugging Nakyum tight, it was more of something Seungho did to calm his racing heart than to just casually convey his affection. He wasn't good with his words. Never had been. Words were messy just like the emotions too frequently and carelessly attached to them. But Nakyum made him want to do better because Nakyum always put himself out there for Seungho. Put his heart on the line and laid himself bare every day--every morning they woke up together and Nakyum would kiss him whispering "I love you." Seungho wasn't sure what the outcome would be. Wasn't certain of their future but he was hopeful. And it was because he was hopeful that he did things he didn't normally do. That he allowed Soo-min to dress him up in this overpriced three-suit with shoes polished to excess. If it could make Nakyum look at him like that, Seungho would wear a suit whenever he wanted.

"You're heart's racing," Nakyum said; his voice muffled by the fabric of the blazer and button down.

"You're my dream," Seungho confessed into the quiet space between them.

Smiling, Nakyum held him close; his hands framing his back and shoulders. "Can you believe in a week it'll have been a year since we've met. It feels like yesterday that I was sitting on your couch dying of embarrassment."

Snorting a short laugh, Seungho nuzzled his face into the unruly ink black hair crowning his lover's head. "You know, at first all I could think of was 'please don't throw up on the couch.' You were so hungover and so anxious."

"I really would have died if I'd thrown up." Chuckling, Nakyum held him tighter; their bodies flush with eyes closing as the familiar warmth spread through them. "You really are my dream. I can't tell you how thankful I am. How much you mean to me. I can't even say it right."

"You don't have to say anything," Seungho murmured against his ear. "Just stay with me. That's all I want."

"I can do that."

"Yeah?"

Nodding, Nakyum pulled away; eyes trailing down Seungho's form. Then, with hands moving to grab hold of the cashmere plaid scarf he was wearing, Nakyum removed it--placing it around Seungho's strong elegant neck. Hands dusting off the already clean fabric, he smiled; gaze reverent and adoring.

"It may not be much but I bought it for you a while back because it reminded me of the one you lost last winter before you exams. Do you like it?"

Choking on his words, Seungho closed the small parcel of space between them and took claim of Nakyum's lips. He could kiss him for an eternity. Could swear his life away from that beautiful perfect connection. Thumbs rubbing over the soft curve of Nakyum's cheeks--the painters lashes dusting his fingertips as they fluttered--he kissed him for a second more.

"I love it," he whispered into the embrace. "I love you Nakyum."

Smiling, Nakyum brushed his nose against Seungho's. "I love you too Yoon Seungho."


	14. Landslide

............... _midnight, Sunday__mid-november_...............

"Is that him?" Crystal asked from her seat next to Seungho. Sandy blonde hair tossed up carelessly into a bun with her retainer in and a neck pillow coiled around her slender throat, she looked down at the picture of him and Nakyum that Seungho had been staring at for the past couple minutes. Smiling at him, she glanced back down. "You look so happy. You're always so serious at work I've wondered if you smile at all."

Seungho chuckled a quiet, short laugh. "I'm not that frigid. My patients like me just fine."

"Oh, your bedside manner is hunky dory. It's the doctor to doctor part that gets people."

Seungho rolled his eyes. He knew she was saying it to be helpful though partially in jest. Crystal was always casually dropping pearls of wisdom mixed with blatant sarcasm. It made it hard to discern whether or not she was being serious at times but Seungho had known her long enough to figure out the puzzle that was his senior-most attending.

"How long have you two been together?" she asked; seaglass green eyes gazing upon the image fondly.

Turning to it, Seungho smiled softly; the recollection of the day they took that photo steeping him in nostalgia. "Almost a year. He counts from the day we officially started dating but I count from the day we first kissed."

Cooing an 'aww' Crystal gave his arm a gentle punch. "Look at you being the hopeless romantic."

"Wasn't always. But so much has changed with him. I just hope it lasts."

"Why do you say that?"

"Say what?"

"That you hope it lasts," Crystal parroted. "You both seem pretty happy from the looks of it."

She was right, they were happy. So stupidly horribly happy that it was almost nauseating for anyone who had known them before they had started this journey together. As cliche as it may have been to admit, Seungho could not remember the last time he had been so happy; the last time he had looked forward to going home. He hardly thought about his cases when he was off the clock now. Didn't fall into the pit of "what if's" or dwell on the losses for as long though they still hurt all the same. He didn't fear going to sleep at night or the dreams that came with because Nakyum was there. Sweetly and quietly, he'd take Seungho into his arms when the nightmares came and he'd stroke his hair until the unrest passed and the terrors turned to dreamscapes. 

Nakyum was his safe place, his joy. A joy he hadn't experienced since the last time his had seen his mother happy and healthy, running on the beach in Thailand saying how beautiful the bioluminescence was--her umber eyes lighting up when she saw the neon trails following a pod of dolphins as they swam. That solitary moment in time and the beauty it captured--it was like a permanent bruise left on his heart. An ache that had grown because he couldn't save her. He'd felt like a failure until Nakyum had found him. Felt like he had been drowning until Nakyum pulled him to the surface to breathe. It was something he never wanted to lose. Yet even so, there'd always be that voice in the back of his head whispering its doubt.

"Well I have a talent for torpedoing my relationships."

Furrowing her brows in contemplation, she sighed. "Well, I think this time'll be different. Call it my surgeons intuition."

Snorting a laugh, Seungho smirked. "Now there's something I can trust."

\---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---

............... _New York__same day_...............

The snow had laid down a dense blanket across all of Manhattan--the city now sleeping beneath it like a slumbering giant hibernating until the spring thaw with all manner of life humming away in their dreams. Plumes of fresh powder sprayed the already carpeted sidewalks as the taxi pulled up to Seungho's apartment building. Thanking the driver, he grabbed his luggage with a shiver as the wind howled down the streets lit only by the rudy glow of lamp light. Pulling the collar of his coat tighter to protect his neck and favorite plaid scarf, he hurried inside--shaking the snow from his shoulders as he entered the lobby.

A brief elevator ride later, he trudged down the hallway to his front door. He could feel the exhaustion setting in. The overtaxing brew it created when mixed with the jet lag and three cups of coffee he shouldn't have had thirteen hours ago. He thought that if he had stayed awake on the plane then he'd be able to sleep better once home. Yet his brain was still wide awake all while his body fought to shut down. He'd been going for almost twenty-four hours. It had been his first international medical summit and the excitement had proliferated through the duration of the event only to culminate in rapid depletion of energy and enthusiasm in the last forty-eight hours. He would have been fine with four days of this. But six? It was just too much now.

Stumbling in through the front door, he grunted his displeasure at his own clumsiness. Tossing the keys into the dish on the mango wood table by the door, he looped his scarf and coat onto the mounted hooks--his gaze stuck for a moment as it studied the other scarf and coat hanging beside his. Sluggish mind pondering the possibilities, it occurred to him a moment or so later that these were familiar. Smiling now, he felt a wave of gratitude wash over him. It had only been a week of separation but Seungho couldn't stand another night alone. Hated the way beds were too big and too cold when he turned over.

Haphazardly removing articles of clothing as he wandered through the apartment, Seungho was only mindful of the noise he was making the closer he got to the master bedroom. Carefully and quietly, he opened the door with stifled breath. Framed by the dim glow of the hall light, he stood there stuck in a stupor--heart both fluttering and pounding in tandem like a school boy watching their crush from across the PE field. Laying on Seungho's side of the bed with the blanket wrapped and tucked between his legs was Nakyum. Wearing his old Stanford raglan again, the painter slumbered happily with soft little snores passing through his parted lips. Lashes flickered as he stirred in his dreamworld and a mumbling sounded as he moved. Toes curled and relaxed while his face nuzzled into the duvet and pillows.

Stricken by adoration and compelled into movement by the desire to touch, Seungho toed off his shoes and shimmied out of his slacks before crawling into bed. Finally at rest next to Nakyum, he draped his arm over the painters waist; giving it a gentle squeeze with his thumb smoothing a soft line against his stomach. Pressing in close, Seungho smelled the skin of his neck; placed a kiss to the nape where a thin veneer of sweat had formed from falling asleep with the heater on. The silkiness of his hair. The warmth radiating out from his slim frame. The way Nakyum seemed to fit perfectly in his arms--propped right up against Seungho's chest--as if they had been two pieces cut from the same cloth parted at first yet now stitched together intimately. This was Seungho's happiness. This was his joy.

"Mmm," Nakyum grumbled at first as the kisses were pressed to his shoulder, neck, and the skin behind his ear. Shifting in place as the fog lifted, he blinked the sleep back while glancing once then twice over his shoulder. "Seungho?" he rasped; voice rough and sweet from sleep. "You're home?"

"Mhmm," Seungho hummed contentedly; finally able to kiss the lips he had been longing for. "We were able to catch an early flight in before the storm shutdown JFK."

Smiling beneath the onslaught of tender pecks and petal soft kisses, Nakyum smiled. "How'd ya' do that?"

"Magic."

Giggling as Seungho turned him over in his arms, Nakyum smoothed his palms over his chest, traced the outline of his collarbone, then framed his face--holding it dear in his hands as he admired that boyish smile and the dimples punctuating his cheeks. There wasn't any conceivable number of days he could spend looking at Seungho and become disenchanted. No number of moments his breath wouldn't be snatched from him when those eyes fell on him. Those glimmering eyes of amber filled with ardor and devotion.

"Welcome home," Nakyum beamed; the warmth spreading through him like a gentle fire.

The words struck Seungho like a hammer to a nail, pinning him to the wall with the promise and love they carried. "I'm home." Their home, he thought. This little space that was theirs and theirs alone. This precious world where only they existed. "It's so good to be back," he confided with another kiss. "I missed you."

Welcoming his affection because he was just as touch starved, Nakyum nuzzled his cheek against Seungho's. "I missed you too. The bed's too big without you."

"You're just small and used to tiny beds," Seungho teased, wincing halfheartedly at the playful jab to his side. Breathing a laugh, he sighed--arms pulling Nakyum in closer in a vain attempt to meld together. "Seven days is way too long to be apart." Seungho buried his face in Nakyum's feather soft hair, strands of which sticking out in a random assortment of directions creating a chaotic halo atop his crown. "I should've just taken you with me. Smuggle you in my luggage," he teased.

Nakyum could only laugh. Seungho had always been doting but he was more affectionate that night. Not desperate per say but seeking as if to reassure him that Nakyum was really there in bed with him. They hadn't been apart much since meeting nearly a year ago--the space between them closing further when they began dating. Slowly but surely they had started spending less time apart. It was normal now for Seungho to catch a cab to work with the Chief since they were leaving from the same place fifty percent of the time. Grandpa had even allowed Seungho to cook for them a few times using Grandma's cast iron skillet and wok; two cherished pieces she had left behind that not even Nakyum was allowed to use often. 

Somehow, without either even moving with intent, that had shifted from "me" to "we." Had become one unit without thinking and nothing pleased them more than that realization. It was a culmination in every relationship. A turning point when things went from casual to serious. "I love you" could be given and taken but planning a life together--unintentionally living together as if it just happened and taking on one another's idiosyncrasies was something not as easily reversed. It was a kind of domestication Nakyum had never had the courage to dream of let alone work towards. A kind of love that was simple and unhindered by their pasts. It was a perfect love. A deep love that ran like rivers and extended out into every aspect of his life.

Kissing Seungho, Nakyum nudged his nose to Seungho's cheek. "Ready for bed?"

Seungho nodded; the exhaustion setting in like roots to the soil.

"Want me to turn the air conditioner on?"

"You'll freeze if we do?" Seungho protested. His voice was already heavy with fatigue and his movements grew lethargic.

"I'll be fine. I've got you and the blankets."

Snorting a laugh, Seungho kissed his forehead. "Whatever you decide on I'm good with. I can't even move right now to be honest."

Smirking fondly, Nakyum shimmied out from under the blankets--escaping Seungho's vice grip--and padded over to the thermostat control. Adjusting it until the air conditioner turned on, he returned to the cocoon of blankets and sheets, huddling in as close as he could before Seungho wrapped an arm around his waist to bring him in closer.

"Night," Nakyum cooed with a kiss to Seungho's chin.

"Night sweetness."

\----------------------------------------------------------------

............... _Thursday morning, Manhattan__early december_...............

Seungho hated waking up by himself any day but he especially hated it in the winter. He'd grown quite accustomed to the steady and comforting warmth that radiated from Nakyum when they spooned. Loved waking up feeling him there pressed up against him with his gentle breaths dancing over the skin of his forearm. Loved it even more when they got into their morning routine--showering together, brushing their teeth together, and making breakfast while talking about their plans for the day. That's how it had been for the better half of seven months. Why it had to change now that Nakyum was working at the Met didn't make sense to Seungho. What kind of work happened at a museum that early in the day?

And it wasn't just the Met demanding his time. That professor Soo-min had warned him about was monopolizing Nakyum's hours with another exhibition. It was Nakyum's last year in the program before he graduated. As such it made perfect and complete sense that his free time would be sparse. They had also started dating in June when they both had an excess of spare time. Nakyum had been out of school and elective surgeries were always low in the summer so they filled their days with one another. Spent their time devoted to each other. Now that winter had set in and the responsibility had caught up with them they had less and less time to spend together.

Rolling onto his back with a drawn out groan, Seungho stared up at the bedroom ceiling. It wasn't just Nakyum's absence that had him in a mood that morning. He couldn't quite put his finger on it but something felt off. Like the world and all its troubles had become too real and were all waiting for him on the other side of the front door. Akin to existential dread in the same humbling sense of one's own mortality and vulnerability it left its victims with, this was something unnamed yet known by all. This feeling of it all being out of one's hands. That there was nothing left to do but roll over and accept it. Seungho did not understand why but he woke up feeling it and couldn't shake the sensation.

All surgeons were superstitious by nature. They all had their quirks--little habits or trinkets they called upon to change the juju. For Miranda, it was her surgical caps; all of which her mother had made by hand with colorfully decorated fabrics. Saad had to count to three before every surgery the moment he was handed a scalpel while Omari would crack his fingers. Dr. Keating was more discrete in the sense that she would switch to drinking hot chocolate instead of coffee or tea because "the sweetness chased off the bad energy." Seungho didn't know what the other attendings did nor did he know what Kiekel's quirk was though it was likely just as outrageous and bizarre as she. But regardless of this feeling Seungho couldn't dally any longer.

Slinking out of bed with a begrudged groan, he padded over to the bathroom for a quick shower. He had recently lobbed off more than half a foot of his hair--it coming to lay just below his shoulders now--because it was becoming too difficult to manage but an added bonus was that washing up was much quicker now and required less shampoo and conditioner than before. Nakyum hated it at first. Loved his longer locks and tugging on them when they were having sex but it wasn't as if he couldn't do the same with the new length. Blow drying his hair to spare himself of catching a cold, Seungho changed int his usual joggers, t-shirt, and Nikes. Today's case was going to be a long one and the possibility of a positive outcome was fifty-fifty since the patient had damage already done to her heart. It was a tricky surgery that most wouldn't touch. Why Seungho had accepted the job he had forgotten in the morning haze. Maybe he'd remember after a few cups of coffee.

Slipping on his jacket, beanie, and the scarf Nakyum had given him for his birthday, Seungho left the apartment just in time to catch the subway to work. Buttered croissant and coffee in hand, he shuffled into the doctors lounge to change into his scrubs. Jerking his chin in greeting to Saad and Asher, the Obgyn from their sister hospital in Los Angeles, Seungho shoved the last massive chunk of his pastry into his mouth as he sat his coffee down in his open locker and stripped down to his underwear and thermal henley. Twisting his hair into a tight bun, he then pinned it down and grabbed his favorite silk surgical cap in rich navy blue. It was as he closed the locker door that the feeling came back. That nagging itching at the back of his waking mind. The one that made him want to cringe with the mortal fear it washed him in.

"Seungho," Jihwa called gently from where he had been standing--quietly and cautiously observing since he had entered the room. Their gazes met when Seungho turned to look at him, the tendrils of dread flickering in his deep brown eyes. "What is it?" He already knew there was something wrong so it'd be foolish to ask if he was okay when he clearly wasn't.

"I have this feeling..." he said; throat tight and brows knitting together just enough to show the confusion he himself was experiencing. It was the first time they--he and Jihwa--had spoken privately but somehow felt as if they were still thick as thieves. "It's like something's coming but I can't see what it is. Like it's just out of my reach."

Smirking faintly, hair already tucked into his surgeons cap--the same one as Seungho--and surgeons coat on, Jihwa gave a soft bob of his head. "I get that a lot too."

"Yeah?"

Jihwa nodded.

"How do you make it stop?"

"You don't," the brunette admitted. Closing the space between them, he gave Seungho's shoulder a friendly jab. "You have to wait for it to pass. See you in O.R. three?"

Breathing a laugh, Seungho nodded with an anxious lick of his lips. "Yeah. I'll see you there."

Hesitating to leave as when he reached the door, Jihwa turned. "The surgery's going to be fine. Of all the surgeon's that could've been picked for this procedure--all of them just as good as the next--you were the one they asked. You're a good doctor Seungho," Jihwa smirked, his expression light and genuine in its sincerity. "It's just another bypass."

"Yeah," Seungho agreed though with a slight stammer as he swallowed back his nerves. "Just another bypass."

"Exactly. And if the shit starts to hit the fan I'll be right there next to you, 'kay?"

He nodded feeling his fears were somewhat alleviated. "Just like the trenches."

"Just like the trenches."

Exhaling a breath he didn't know he had been holding in, Seungho shook off the feeling. "Alright. Let's go."

\------------------------------------------------------------------

............... _Late One Friday Night__mid-december_...............

It was well past ten-fifty and Seungho still wasn't home. Ten-thirty on their one date night that week and he wasn't there. Hadn't even text to tell Nakyum that he was running late or if his surgery had ran over because of some unforeseen complication. Just silence. Silence and disappointment as Nakyum sat on the new couch they had picked out together for the apartment wearing the new outfit he had bought specifically for the dinner he had cooked for them. The dinner that was now cold and sitting in plastic tupperware in the fridge.

He'd never felt this way before. Never felt this kind of sting while sitting there waiting like some forgotten pet in their master's apartment. They hadn't had much time together since he had begun working at the Met. Seungho had also been busy with work because more patients had their big surgeries in the winter right before their insurance deductible for the year reset in January. But they could at least have dinners together. Maybe breakfast if the cards weren't stacked against them. But recently Seungho had been coming home later than usual. Hadn't been as diligent in his texts as he had before. It all made Nakyum's mind run wild with every possible answer for his behavior.

Nakyum knew Seungho wasn't the cheating kind. Knew that he had been betrayed in his past though it hadn't never been discussed. But Nakyum's anxious mind wouldn't let him be free of the fear. Wouldn't stop the visions of Seungho with that brunette surgeon he had gone to med school with--the pretty one that was smarter than the others and perfectly fit into Seungho's glittering world. They were cut from the same cloth. But well educated and from the upper class. They both knew the world in which they worked and understood the struggles they faced and faced them together because Seungho often worked with Jihwa who had chosen to follow the general surgeons path.

Sighing as the tears fell quietly over his cheeks, Nakyum rolled his eyes while wiping them away. What good was crying over something that was out of his control? It wasn't his fault that Seungho wasn't home. Wasn't his fault that he had forgotten--again. Nakyum had texted him multiple at first to remind him and then again when he didn't show at nine o'clock, nine-thirty, ten o'clock, and ten-thirty. Standing u, he blew out the multiple jasmine and honeysuckle candles he had lit throughout the apartment to set the mood. A mood that only made him grow more sour as he sat there in the warm glow of the dimmed flood lights and flickering candles. Breathing out an unsteady watery sigh, he turned to head toward the bedroom when the lock on the front door turned. A mere moment later in stumbled Seungho, drunk and smirking as he bit his bottom lip the same way he did when he was trying to be slick and sneak into Nakyum's room without waking up his grandfather. It was when he lifted his gaze and caught Nakyum standing there that his boyish grin fell a little.

"Hey, I thought you'd be asleep by now." Silence growing between them when Nakyum didn't answer, Seungho closed the space between them. It was only when he was close enough that he saw how red Nakyum's eyes were. "You okay? Hey," Seungho cooed when Nakyum looked away--his hands coming up to smooth over the painters shoulders. "Tell me what's wrong?"

"I'm fine." The lie was a clear slap in the face. A way of Nakyum telling him that he should already know what was wrong and the fact that he didn't was making things worse.

"Did something happen at work? Did the professor say something to you?"

Nakyum could only scoff. Lately he'd been suspicious of Inhun. It wasn't like he had any need or right to be though. Nakyum had clearly moved on from the professor. Wouldn't have started dating Seungho unless he was mentally and emotionally available. And Seungho had no right to be upset when he--more often than not--was the one vanishing without a trace these days. Since the summit in London he'd been something of a ghost, coming home later and later each night and leaving early in the morning with only a kiss on his cheek to prove they had slept in the same bed.

Shrugging off Seungho's hands, he bit his tongue. "I'm going to bed."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"I told you, I'm fine."

"You really expect me to believe that lie?" Seungho countered indignantly as if the words Nakyum had said were a slap to the face.

"Then why don't you use that big fucking brain of yours and think about it?!" Nakyum finally snapped; fresh tears stinging the corners of his eyes as the anger and loneliness boiled over. "I waited! For four hours, I waited and not _one_ text to tell me where you were."

Taking a deep breath so that he wouldn't scream back, Seungho grit his teeth. "I told you I would be home late."

"No you didn't."

"Yes, I did. I sent you a text right after the case."

"I didn't get a text."

"Bullshit." Pulling out his phone to prove Nakyum wrong, he froze when he saw the four missed texts, the voicemails, missed calls, and the unsent message he had typed out and forgotten to send.

Looking at Seungho's phone screen, Nakyum scoffed. "I'm going to bed."

"Hey," he said quickly, taking hold of Nakyum's wrist. "Why are you pissed? So I missed a few calls. I'm sorry okay. I screwed up and forgot to tell you I was going out."

"You were going out?" Nakyum smiled incredulously as if the words were salt on a wound. Breathing hard through his nose as if it were fire, he shook his head. "Guess you forgot about dinner."

"Dinner?"

"Yeah, the one I'd been planning for a week like some idiot." Shaking his head as the tears finally fell, he laughed. "I was so excited. I bought a new outfit, lit candles... I even learned how to make your favorite shumai and then sat here for hours waiting for you." Noticing the expression of guilt and realization as the color drained from Seungho's face, Nakyum didn't want to ask the question dangling from the tip of his tongue. Didn't want to hear the answer but asked anyways. "Who were you with?" Face cold and knowing as their eyes met, he asked again; voice sharp and level. "Who were you with?"

Heart racing with a sickening brew of fear and nausea, Seungho swallowed hard. "Jihwa."

He didn't need to say anymore. Didn't get the chance to because Nakyum was already heading toward the front door. Watching as the painter grabbed his coat and keys, Seungho only just understood what was happening when Nakyum opened the front door.

"Where are you going?"

"Home." The answer was short and concise. 

Brows furrowing, Seungho hurried to the door to stop him. "It's late. The subways aren't running out to Brooklyn and it's freezing outside."

"I don't care." Nakyum couldn't even look at him. The pain was too great that if he did he'd crumble. He'd been forgotten and left for Jihwa.

"Don't do this. Just come back inside and we can talk."

"I don't want to talk right now."

"Well I do."

"Well you can't always get what you want!" Nakyum all but shouted while jerking his arm away.

"You're really going to be a brat over this?" Seungho spat; the poisonous words like venom escaping his lips. "You're really going to throw a tantrum over something as small as this when you leave me hanging all the time because of work and Inhun?"

Gutted as if he'd had his beating heart torn out from him, Nakyum could only laugh. "You're unbelievable."

Watching Nakyum turn his back and leave, Seungho slammed the door shut. Back pressed to it with hands running through his hair and down his face he tried to get a hold of the world as it spiralled away from him. He knew he shouldn't have gotten angry. That he should have just apologized and said he'd do better. But a part of him was still seething. Nakyum had forgotten about him too. Had replaced him with work and school. Had come home too tired to even say hello and fell asleep in his painted splattered jeans and sweater. It wasn't as if Seungho wasn't lonely. He wouldn't be spending so much time with Jihwa if Nakyum had paid more attention to him. It wasn't as if he didn't miss Nakyum. Seungho missed him too.

Weary gaze falling on the candles dotting the living room windows and coffee table in front of the couch then the assembly of dishes in the sink Nakyum had used to make dinner, the small seed of guilt bloomed into deep regret. He missed Nakyum and Nakyum had been missing him too. That's was why they were fighting but his stupidity and pride had blinded him.

Turning without hesitation, Seungho threw open the front door and raced to the stairwell. He couldn't let the night end like this. Couldn't let Nakyum go home when he was crying like that. Not when they were both hurting like this over something that could be fixed. And Seungho _would_ fix this. He could fix this. He repeated the thought like a prayer as he raced down the stairs, rushed into the lobby, and then outside when Nakyum was nowhere to be found. Wind howling with snow falling all around him, the silence of the city fell in around him.

It was too late.

He was too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * _LANDSLIDE_ *  
> by Fleetwood Mac
> 
> I took my love, I took it down  
> Climbed a mountain and I turned around  
> And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills  
> 'Til the landslide brought me down
> 
> Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?  
> Can the child within my heart rise above?  
> Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides?  
> Can I handle the seasons of my life?  
> Mmm
> 
> Well, I've been 'fraid of changin'  
> 'Cause I've built my life around you  
> But time makes you bolder  
> Even children get older  
> And I'm gettin' older, too
> 
> Well, I've been 'fraid of changin'  
> 'Cause I've built my life around you  
> But time makes you bolder  
> Even children get older  
> And I'm gettin' older, too  
> I'm gettin' older, too
> 
> Ah, take my love, take it down  
> Oh, climb a mountain and turn around  
> And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills  
> Well, the landslide will bring it down  
> And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills  
> Well, the landslide will bring it down  
> Oh, the landslide will bring it down
> 
> ** _note that the original music is by Fleetwood Mac with covers performed by various artists such as Smashing Pumpkins and The Dixie Chicks/The Chicks._


	15. Fools Like Us

" _Seungho...I....I-I'm sorry I d-didn't call sooner._ "

" _What's wrong? Won, what happened? I can't understand you when you're breathing like that_ "

" _I-I'm sorry I just...she's gone._ "

" _What...?_ "

" _Mom's gone. She didn't make it._ "

Eyes flying open as the dew of a cold sweat collected on his chest and forehead, Seungho laid in bed staring at the empty other half of the bed--sheets and blankets crumpled from his tossing while the alarm sounded. It'd been eight years since he got that phone call. And two since he had dreamt about it. That failed summer. That gloom that had been chased away was now creeping back. The snow was still falling outside. It had started days ago with it piling up in heaps on the sidewalks and unchecked park benches. Water fountains had been drained for the winter and the Jackie O' reservoir had started to freeze over. The heater was always on now and acted as the only sound in the mornings--it's forced warmth pouring through the vents filling the quiet space with mild comfort.

Reaching for his phone on the side table as he rolled over, Seungho checked his messages. Still nothing. Nothing since the panicked texts he had exchanged with Nakyum seven days ago. 

" _I want to see you. Please? I can come over now,_ " he had wrote, the dizzying chokehold of fear and past trauma tightening its grip on him. " _Please don't ignore me. Please Nakyum, can we talk? I'll listen to whatever you have to say. I promise._ " 

Nakyum had responded with " _I can't talk to you right now._ "

" _Then when?_ "

" _I don't know. I need time. Just stop please._ "

" _I love you._ "

Those three words he had sent in a desperate plea for deliverance--his heart and anguish laid bare and left on read. Seungho had called off two days in a row following the exchange. How could he tend to his patients when he could hardly find the motivation to breathe let alone move? He could feel it coming again, the onset of abandonment. The same hollowing sensation that came with every break up and loss. He had felt it when he was ten for the first time when his friends turned their backs on him because they felt poor whenever they came over and didn't want to be around him. It came again when the boy he had given his virginity to over the summer left him for a girl--he was only fourteen. His second serious relationship and first love--they had all ended in failure. Both grandparents on his father's had disowned him. It made sense since his father had all but put his disappointment in writing.

Seungho was used to this. Was used to being left because of his fuck-up's. He'd become comfortable with his ability to let others down that it didn't surprise him when no one stayed and everyone left. The only one's who hadn't abandoned him were his siblings and his mother. They'd been with him through his best and worst--still loved him even then and that should have been enough. He shouldn't have asked for more. But the yearning to touch and love was just as natural to humans as breathing. It wasn't his fault that he wanted someone who knew him more deeply than them. Someone that would look at him--bound and scarred by his flaws--and still find something beautiful and worthwhile in him.

Nakyum had been the wild burst of sunlight--the rays beaming from him cutting through tree leaves and fog to illuminate the corners of his shrinking world. A north star for him to follow home. Since their first meeting his days had been filled with nothing but a strange pleasantness he'd hadn't felt since childhood. The same excitement he had experienced running through the tall grass at their summer home pretending to be pirates with Seungwon chasing him and Soo-min dressed in her favorite white dress with little flowers sewn into the hem laughing as they bound across the dunes. That same joy was what he felt whenever Nakyum was near. A childlike wonder. The sense that everything will be okay and homely safeness. 

Seungho could still feel the whispers of Nakyum on his fingers. The smell of his skin imbued into the sheets and pillows. The sound of his voice--sweet and heavy with sleep--breathing out from the walls in this lonesome mocking silence. And his eyes. Eyes like the sun through trees or blades new grass in the spring dotted with beads of water that catch the golden gleam in them. Seungho could see Nakyum's ghost staring back at him from where it laid on the bed, lips curled into a gentle smile with hair disheveled.

Reaching out, Seungho touched the ghosts fingertips; tears coming when they vanished from his grasp. It had only been seven days but it may have well been years. Had it not have been for work, he would have forgotten entirely how long they had been apart. Was Nakyum taking care of himself? Was he eating and sleeping or was he spending his nights at the studio? Did Nakyum miss him at all? Did he miss him as much as Seungho missed him? Had he even thought of him at all? Or had he already decided they were over?

The dying embers of his hope breathed to life by weakly constructed pep talks were the only reason he still had strength to face the day. This couldn't be how they ended. He wouldn't let it end like this. Not with this silence. Even if they parted ways, Seungho wanted to see him one last time. Wanted to apologize and tell him everything he'd been holding on to. It was selfish. He knew that. But it was the reason why they had fought; the reason why he had made an ass of himself and accused Nakyum of being unfaithful. Seungho was a mess; already knew that and had been working on making himself better so these things wouldn't happen. So that Nakyum wouldn't leave him but his efforts had been wasted. Well, maybe they weren't but he couldn't tell at this point. Couldn't hope for much else than a peaceful end and for Nakyum to walk away without any scars.

Gazing across the bed where Nakyum should be--where he used to be--Seungho curled his fingers into the fitted sheet; throat tight and eyes burning at the edges. "Please come back."

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

............... _Day Nine__little collins cafe..............._

Entering the petite coffee shop with a shiver rolling down his spine as he shook the snow from his shoulders and head, Nakyum smiled when he saw Seungwon and Mimi waiting for him at their usual table; the both of them chicly bundled up in their peacoats and woolen Dior scarves. It had been a few days since they had last gotten the chance to meet up. Soo-min had just started her first internship of her undergrad program, something she loved to both gloat and complain about all at once. Seungwon and Nakyum didn't mind though since they did very much the same. Seungwon had been promoted to team leader of the design team he was part of at work at the start of the summer which came with opportunities and pitfalls. He had increased his network three-fold and the bonus at the end of every quarter was nice. However, like Nakyum, he had less and less time to himself. 

“Hey, you okay?" Nakyum breathed, still short of breath from the long walk over from the subway station. "You look a pretty down." 

"He's just sulking because him and Liza got into another argument," Mimi stated, he expression flat save only for the slight irritation pinching at her brows. This was the first time Seungwon and Liza had fought in recent weeks but they always made up quickly. "She asked him if they'd be spending Christmas Eve together and what did you say Won?" 

Sighing, her brother grumbled, "That I'm working."

Hands raised in the air, Mimi then folded them tightly and flatly on the table top with her lips pressed into a tight smile. "Working, on Christmas. Of course she'd be pissed. You guys have spent every Christmas Eve together since you started dating.” 

“I didn't ask them to schedule me to work Mimi," Seungwon countered. 

“You could've asked for it off when you found out." 

“I'm not arguing about this," Seungwon groaned; the sound almost a growl. It seemed as though everyone had been on edge lately. "I'm already looking for someone to cover me but it's hard since I'm the section leader." 

“Well I can tell you this much, you'll be in the dog house if you don't work something out." 

Their conversation slowly declining from familial brickering to angry ranting in Korean, Nakyum ignored them as he set his bag down on the ground next to his chair and shrugged his coat off. He still hadn't told them about what had happened with Seungho. Was too afraid to because they'd either skin him or their brother; maybe both of them. He also wasn't sure if it was right to include them in this because of how private the matter was. It wasn't like he was lying to them. A question had to be asked for there to have been a lie told and neither had asked him anything yet. 

Heading to the line to get his coffee, Nakyum pulled out his phone--unlocking the screen and tapping on his message inbox. Nothing still. It'd been nine days since their fight. Nine days of silence and nine days of on and off crying in his studio with the door locked. Thankfully Professor Jung had made himself scarce these last few weeks because his wife was pregnant and required his attention at home. Grandpa had been particularly observant--mentioning that something wasn't right about the way Nakyum had been acting but he didn't push beyond that. 

He could still recall the look on Seungho's face when he had come back that night. The way his expression fell from that charming smile to a wary lopsided grin. Could remember the way they screamed at each other--how their voices had changed in pitch and trembled with strain. That despairing look in Seungho's eyes when he asked him not to leave; when he practically begged for him to stay. But how could he when just looking at Seungho's face felt like he was twisting a knife deeper into his heart. Had he become so boring that he had driven Seungho back into Jihwa's arms? If so, when had it happened? Could he even fix this? Or were they doomed to fail? 

Why did this have to be so hard? Why was love so messy and complicated? It was as if all the fairytales from childhood and the great romances of Hollywood and literature had lied to them as children, filling their heads with nonsense that would only lead to disappointment later on in life. Those iconic kisses in the rain and monologues to their beloved with a backdrop of moonlight. The long moody glances from across the room and mornings the leads would spend together with the golden sunshine spilling in through the windows. Sad phone calls where they confessed their deepest secrets. Reconciliations under the lamplight and starved embraces as if they'd die if ever parted. They made it all look so easy. Like there was nothing to it and that anyone who struggled in love was just not trying hard enough. That or they weren't cut out for it. 

Would they survive this? Were they strong enough in their bond or had not enough time passed for them to weather this storm? This self-inflicted separation--it broke Nakyum's heart. Little by little, every day he could feel it chipping away at him as the minutes passed. He loved Seungho. That should be enough. That should be the only thing that mattered. Yet they something as miniscule as miscommunication had driven a wedge between them. It hurt, the words they had last spoken to each other before he had left that night. Neither of them had been right nor had they been wrong because at the end of the day what they had both wanted to say was that they missed each other. That they hated their current circumstance of not being able to spend more time together. That there was a void one another had left with their absence. That was all there was to it. They missed each other. So why did he have to go and scream at Seungho? 

“Nakyum...?" 

Looking up as his name was called, Nakyum only noticed then that Soo-min had taken hold of his hand on the table; her worried gaze fixed on him. "Sorry, I was just thinking about something." 

“You're crying," she said flatly; voice carrying an air of concern. 

Blinking once then twice, he swallowed hard; reaching up with his free hand to wipe away the tears. 

"Nakyum," Soo-min said gently, her hands cupping his as she leaned in; expression softening into heartache as she watched him choke back tears. "What happened?” 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

.............. _Day Twelve__christmas eve_...............

In a stream of white splattered with blue and yellow from the fluorescent lights overhead the world passed Seungho by. He went through the notions as per usual. Did his rounds in the morning, performed his three surgeries without fail, and remembered to eat lunch that afternoon. His smile hadn't betrayed him. Everyone was convinced he was okay. Even now as he walked down the halls on his way to the surgeons lounge his peers wished him a good night and a merry Christmas. He'd smile back and say "you too" or "Happy Hanukkah" to the appropriate people as was expected of him. He seemed to be fine. It weren't as though Seungho had changed all that much. It wasn't as though anyone cared. 

Entering the locker room, Seungho nodded a greeting to Dr. Rosas two isles down as he passed by and said goodbye to Dr. TK as she left for the evening. He was surprised she had worked at all that night. She had only been on maternity leave for a month. But maybe things were easier since her husband had taken his paternity leave just a week ago. Stopping in front of his locker, Seungho pressed his forehead to the cool steel door. Closing his eyes he took a deep breath in, held it for a few long moments, then exhaled--repeating the process twice more. He was okay. He'd made it through that day so he'd be okay. It was his goal every morning now to just make it through the day without falling apart. And it was his patients that were the reason he was even there instead of at home laying on the floor listening to the noise coming in from outside. 

Twelve days. It had been twelve days and twenty hours and thirty-six minutes since he had last spoken to or seen Nakyum and every moment that passed was another moment in hell. He had done this to himself. Was convinced now that he was solely responsible for this since he had been the one leaving Nakyum all alone. True, Nakyum had done something similar. Had cancelled on him a few times for work or school. But he was still a student and a senior nonetheless. It was expected that he'd be busy in his last year of graduate school. He knew Nakyum wasn't doing it on purpose. Knew that he hadn't done the things he had to spite him nor that he had any control over who was in charge of his final project for his master's program just like Seungho didn't have a choice. 

Looking back on things now he couldn't believe how stupid he'd been. Couldn't stand looking at himself in the mirror every morning and every night before going to sleep. There was a reason why his relationships always failed. A key factor that determined their success and after so many failures Seungho was convinced it was him--not his partners or the circumstances surrounding them--that was to blame. He was the one who had lashed out when they were in the wrong. He was the one who had started first with the harsh words and called Nakyum a brat--saying he was "throwing a tantrum" when he was the one who had forgotten about their date night. Gritting his teeth behind pressed lips, he kept his eyes shut and breathing steady as the last two occupants in the locker room left leaving him all alone with his thoughts. 

He felt like he was drowning. Sinking to the bottom of some dark abyss with weights tethered to his legs. Lungs heavy and throat tight, Seungho couldn't hold himself together much longer. Couldn't keep his mask up to hide his misery. He could feel himself breaking down. Could feel the wave hitting him and knew he needed to hurry up and change so that he could get home and cry there. But how could he when nothing worked? How could Seungho move when his arms were lead bricks with legs like stumps rooted into the floor? It hurt. Every single thing hurt from his bones to his nerves to his heart that he wished he could just rip out and throw in the trash. What good was it now? What need di he have for it without Nakyum? 

After another deep measured breath, Seungho steadied himself against the lockers. Held himself in place while he waited for his legs to regain feeling and release from their locked positions. It was as he unlocked and opened his locker that the door to the changing room swung open. Daring to lift his gaze once he was certain his mask was firmly in place, Seungho froze. 

“Hey," Jihwa said; voice unassuming yet hinting at what he knew. 

Lips twitching into a forced smile, Seungho marvelled at how strange his voice sounded when he replied with his own "Hey." Looking away, he awkwardly stripped, tossing his scrubs into the community hamper for cleaning. "Good job on that craniotomy today. Heard you did it in record time." 

"Yeah," Jihwa answered as he opened his locker up just behind Seungho. "Good job to you too. Three surgeries in one day. Gotta be exhausted." 

“A little." 

Silence fell between them like a veil. Neither of them knew what to say next. It had been three days since they had last spoken to each other outside of work and something was off. Seungho had never been easy for people to read but Jihwa knew what to look for. Could usually decipher his feelings within moments but today something loomed between them. He had a feeling of what it could be. His gut had never been wrong before but part of him felt guilty at the pang of joy his heart felt. They had only ever been friends with benefits and it had been Jihwa's mistake for believing there was more to them than that. It was why Seungho's romance with the chief's kid hurt so deeply; because he'd never see Seungho smile at him the way he smiled at Nakyum. But Seungho wasn't smiling much these days. Matter of fact, Seungho wasn't doing much of anything or behaving the way he usually did nowadays. Like the shell of a doll with all its stuffing plucked out, he was only a husk of a person--empty inside while masquerading around as if everything were fine. 

“Seungho..." 

“Hmm?" 

“You got any plans for tonight?" 

Throat clenching of its own volition, Seungho smiled weakly. "No," he answered as if he were mocking himself. "No I don't." 

“Then let's go out for drinks," Jihwa offered. Smiling sympathetically when he saw the look in Seungho's eyes when he glanced over to him, Jihwa could feel his heart ache. "It's on me, 'kay." 

\---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x--- 

It was cold. So cold Nakyum could hear his teeth chattering and feel his nose and fingers going numb. He had always hated the winter. Nothing good ever happened during those months when the nights were long and the days were impossibly short. Streets filled with snow and silence and skies blotted out by the gray clouds overhead that seemed to seal in the darkness, it were as if the city and all manner of life within it had died. Like a spell had been cast and the world had gone into a comatose state teetering on the edge of the great beyond. 

He didn't know why he had gotten off of the subway when he had or why he was wandering around campus at twelve-thirty at night on Christmas Eve. Didn't understand why he was standing in the fridge weather he so deeply hated, staring up at the art building as if it were some holy being he were seeking answers from. None of it made sense. But nothing had made much sense to him for the past week or so. Like the city, Nakyum had been caught in a fog of indifference. It was the only way he'd been able to hold himself together. The only way that would allow him to exist and not fall to pieces. It wasn't to say he didn't feel anything though. Every day he woke up in pain. As if his body were missing some vital organ or the very air to breathe, it ached and groaned. Like living in a fish tank, the waters rose around him--isolating and suffocating him. Nothing felt right. Nothing was as it should be. 

Turning his back to the campus building, Nakyum wandered down the street. Snow gently falling from the sky to create a thick mat upon the pavement, his footsteps were unaccompanied in the lonesomeness as he walked. This spiteful weather. This hateful cold. It reminded him of how alone he truly was; of all his screw up's and shortcomings. It reminded him of how alone he was. Of all the people he'd lost and the one's he'd driven away. He could feel it now, the depression looming over him like a guillotine. The blade polished and cleaned waiting to come down on him to plunge him into a depressive spiral the way it had a year ago. 

Things always fell apart in the winter. They had last year when Professor Jung had expressed his disgust toward the gay community while proudly boosting about his marriage. His first real relationship had ended in the winter five years ago as well. But that had been his fault. He couldn't satisfy his partner so it made sense that he'd be dumped. His first boyfriend had said the same thing too in high school right after his mother passed away. That he couldn't take Nakyum being so depressive and how guilty he felt because he couldn't help him. Winter was the cruelest time of the year. Always had been. Why would this year be any different? 

Stopping beneath the ruddy glow of a solitary streetlight, Nakyum looked up from his shoes buried in the snow. Of course he'd wander to Seungho's apartment building. Of course his feet would lead him there because this was where he thought he had belonged. That place was where he thought he had found a home--a place he could call his own. He could still feel it. The ghost of Seungho standing next to him with his hand holding Nakyum's inside his coat pocket. Could still feel his warmth and hear his laughter. His nose would be pink in this weather with pale lips. Yet even then he'd be handsome. 

They had met in the winter. The frost biting at their cheeks between Nakyum's drunken slurs and Seungho's inquiries. Funny was it that the one good thing in Nakyum's life had both entered and exited in the middle of winter's gale. That was so typical. So much like him to be unlucky like that. It'd been twelve days and neither of them had spoken a word to each other. Maybe this was the way they ended. Maybe this was a lesson wrapped up in heartache. There had to be some meaning to it all. There had to be a point to all this suffering. 

"Nakyum?" called a voice from behind him. 

Turning as he exited his reverie, Nakyum almost laughed at how coincidental life seemed to be. That just when he was thinking about Seungho he'd magically appear though he wasn't alone. Stumbling out of a cab piss drunk, the one who had called to him wasn't Seungho but his friend. A friend he knew from the many times they had ran into one another at the hospital. 

“Jihwa?" Nakyum asked though already aware it was him. The name sounded funny coming from his lips; his voice cracking as if he were in the height of puberty. "What happened?" 

“Thank fucking god you're here," the frazzled brunette sighed with a groan. "We went out drinking and he just spiralled from there." 

"Spiralled?" 

“Yeah, although I suppose you wouldn't know since you guys haven't been talking." Noticing the pointedness in his own tone, Jihwa sighed again; shrugging Seungho back up the arm he had wrapped under his shoulders for support. "Help me take him upstairs. I can't get him into his place on my own." 

Nodding without words, Nakyum agreed. It was a strange feeling, helping Seungho's ex get him upstairs. Queer was it how all three of them shared memories within these walls though not within the same timeline. They had both loved the same man. Likely still did if Jihwa's actions were anything to go off of. They had both been bedmates and confidants and knew Seungho in ways no one else did. And there were things they each knew about him that the other didn't. Riding the elevator up in silence, it was as they stepped into the hall on the fifth floor that Jihwa broke the silence. 

“We aren't sleeping with each other," he said matter-of-factly as if it were obvious. Glancing to Nakyum then ahead he added, "I loved him too and told him but he was so focused on you I didn't stand a chance. Four years together and it was all shot to shit by some bright-eyed painter." Snorting a laugh, Jihwa shook his head, whispering self-targeted obscenities to himself. "He's a mess right now. He tries to pretend he's okay at work and no one thinks twice about it because he's a damn good liar when it comes to these things. But whatever happened between you guys has him fucked." 

"I-I didn't mean..." 

“I'm not the one you should be talking too and honestly I don't want to hear it because I'm fucking pissed at you. This guy gave you his everything and you leave him hanging like that for two weeks?" Biting his tongue when he saw Nakyum starting to tear up, Jihwa rolled his eyes. "Like I said, it's none of my business. We aren't fucking and he's been faithful to you so make up with him already before he self-destructs." Reaching into Seungho's back pant pocket where he knew he'd find his house keys, Jihwa unlocked the door, trudged into the living room, and laid Seungho down onto the couch. Massaging his aching shoulder, he looked to Nakyum who was standing next to Seungho's head with hands fidgeting from trepidation. Licking his lips, Jihwa looked off to the side. "He's my best friend.” 

Nakyum looked up; delving gaze fixed on the brunette as he spoke. 

“He's the only person that hasn't grown tired of my bullshit or used me for my family's money. He's the realest person I've ever met; the most committed guy and selfless person I've ever known even if he tries to act like he isn't." Laughing to himself, Jihwa looked to Nakyum. "Do you forgive him? He told me about what had happened. That he felt like shit for letting it get that far. So do you forgive him?" 

Lips curling into a sad trembling smile, Nakyum breathed a laugh. "He was never to blame. I was the one who screwed up." 

Studying the painter as if his morose grin and cheeks stained with tears were trying to lie, Jihwa quirked a brow. "You both fucked up but don't cry like you've already broken up. Especially when he's drinking himself stupid because he misses you." 

“I didn't know." 

"Yeah, I know you didn't know." Breathing hard through his nose to calm himself down, Jihwa shook his head. This was too much; _they_ were too much. "You both are a pair of fools," he muttered to himself; hand rubbing the nape of his neck with eyes on the ground. Looking up, he saw Nakyum had gone back to staring at his inebriated lover. "Talk. No yelling. No pointing any fingers. Just talk and tell him how you feel and he'll do the same. You can get him to do almost anything when he's this far gone. Be honest and apologize if you're really sorry. It's not over until you say it's over." 

“Why are you saying this?" 

“Because I'm an asshole." Snorting a laugh at Nakyum's bewildered expression, Jihwa shook his head. "Anyway, I'm leaving. Lock the door before you go to sleep or leave. There's creeps in the area." 

“'K-Kay," Nakyum stammered as Jihwa made his way to the door. "Thank you." Watching him stall at the entrance, Nakyum swallowed back his nerves. "For taking care of him and for being so good to him, t-thank you Jihwa.” 

Without a word, Jihwa looked at him then left; the front door clicking shut behind him. 

Alone now, Nakyum stared at the door for a long moment as Jihwa's words sank in. ' _I really am an idiot,_ ' he chided himself before turning around. Making his way to the couch, he gazed down at Seungho with wistful adoration. Smoothing the damp strands of jet black hair back from his forehead, he leaned over the armrest to kiss between his brows. Pulling back as he stirred, he watched Seungho come to. Watched as he groaned and searched with curious lidded eyes. Waited for his earthen gaze to find his--Nakyum's heart leaping when it had. What had been a little over a week felt like an eternity. Akin to coming home, he found himself falling into his eyes. Those beautiful honest pools of golden brown that sparked to life in the sun. 

“Nakyum..." Seungho breathed; his raspy tone of disbelief watery as if he were on the brink of another breakdown. "Nakyum? Are...are you....?" 

Smiling despite the stinging of his own tears, Nakyum circled around to the other side. "I'm here," he said quietly as if not to break the spell cast over them. Crouching down in front of him with a hand combing through his hair, he couldn't recall why they were upset with each other in the first place. "You feeling okay?" 

Seungho shook his head; eyes pinching shut as the nausea set in. "I wanna throw up." 

"I'll bring you a--" 

“Bathroom.” 

“Hm?" 

“Help me to the bathroom?" 

Nodding once, Nakyum helped Seungho to his feet. Unsteady but reluctant to let his own drunkenness make him into anymore of a fool, Seungho tired to hold himself up; tripping over his toes and fumbling from weak knees until Nakyum sweetly scolded him--telling him to just let him help for once. So he did. Allowing Nakyum to carry the majority of his weight, together they made it into the master bathroom where Seungho slumped against the wall next to the toilet before sliding down to the cool tiled floor. 

“Do you need anything? I can grab you some ice water from the fridge or..." 

Seungho shook his head as Nakyum's words trailed off. Licking his winter chapped lips, he took a deep grounding breath. "Stay. Please? Stay here." Grunting as his stomach wrenched, he groaned. "I don't need any of that I jus'," he whimpered; facade falling to reveal the mess he'd been hiding behind it. "Don't leave. Jus' stay here with me. Please?" 

Heartbroken at his plea, Nakyum sat down next to him; curling into his side with his head on his chest below Seungho's throat. Threading their fingers together, he looked at their joined hands. Studied the contours and calloused tips of his partners fingers. Chuckled at how they were warmer than he remembered. 

“I never cheated on you," Seungho murmured; his throat catching and voice thick with exhaustion. "I didn't....I can't even function without you," he slurred with a pitiful laugh; hot tears streaking his face. "I screwed up. I didn't mean to. I jus'...Imma a screw up but I'm tryin' not to be so...so please," he implored as he fought to hold himself together, "please just give me another chance. I know I'm an asshole. That I work too much but I promise to change. I'll change for you," Seungho said as he squeezed Nakyum's hand. "I'll be whatever you want me to be. Jus' don't leave me." 

Tears breaking free from his own eyes, Nakyum turned and maneuvered himself so the he was now sitting between Seungho's legs with his own bent over Seungho's thighs. Whispering "look at me" when Seungho tired to turn away, Nakyum reached up and tenderly took his face into his palms. Holding him steady, he could see the shame--the guilt and deep-seated self-loathing that Seungho had kept hidden from him. He could see the scared teenager; the boy who had been rejected by his father, had lost his mother, and had suffered in silence for the sake of his siblings. This beautiful man sobbing in his hands--what nightmares had he lived through? What uncertainties had he confronted alone without anyone by his side? Nakyum didn't know. He wanted to and would find out in time but not tonight. Tonight was for forgiveness and healing. It was for picking up the pieces of their breaking hearts and putting each other back together. 

”I'm not leaving you," Nakyum said at last when he was certain his voice wouldn't betray the finality of his words. Holding Seungho's head still, he waited until their eyes met again--turbulent umber meeting serene amber. "And I don't want you to change yourself. Not because of this and not for me. I love you," he declared as if it were revelation. "So much that every moment I spent away from you felt like I was living without my skin. I love you Seungho." 

"I love you too Nakyum," Seungho croaked; his hands coming up to hold Nakyum's as his smile crumpled. "I love you. You believe me, right?" he plead; Seungho folding forward as he was overwhelmed once more. "You have to believe me..." 

“I do. I believe you." Collecting Seungho into his arms as he collapsed into Nakyum's lap, Nakyum held him close with a hand on his back while the other stroked dotingly through his hair. He missed his longer hairstyle--had expressed his upset when Seungho had cut it. But it didn't matter what he did. Seungho was lovely either way. Kissing his cheek, Nakyum combed the hair away from his ear as he whispered, "You're the only man I will ever love Seungho Yoon." Smiling when Seungho squeezed his waist tighter, he kissed him again. "We both screwed up. I should have talked to you sooner." 

“And I shouldn't have been an asshole and accuse you of cheating. I know you aren't like that." Coughing a little from how dry his throat was, Seungho sniffled and took another quivering breath. "I know you aren't but I was jealous. You were working and spending so much time at the studio and I lashed out like some idiot. I know that you...that you w-weren't doing it on purpose b-but I just..." 

Cooing a shush as a heaving sob worked itself up inside Seungho again, Nakyum held him tighter. "I know. I know now that that's why you got upset." 

“But I hurt you too. I wasn't around. I left you hanging and forgot about our date and made you think that Jihwa and I were together." 

"Don't put all of that on yourself," Nakyum countered. He was familiar with that kind of self-destructive thinking because he was often guilty of doing it himself. Tilting back as Seungho sat up, Nakyum's hands returned to where they had been--framing his lovely countenance before falling just enough so that they cupped his jaw with thumbs adoringly rubbing gentle circles into his fair skin. "We both messed up. We're both responsible but we're not going to break from this. We're stronger than that. 'Kay?" 

Swallowing hard with his bottom lip stuck between his teeth, Seungho nodded. "'Kay..." 

"Alright?" 

Seungho nodded again. 

Smiling as relief poured through him, Nakyum leaned forward and kissed him; the salt lingering on his lips when they parted. "We're going to be okay. You're my one Seungho. You're my person." 

Laughing, Seungho smiled too for the first time in what had felt like weeks. "You're my person too Nakyum. I promise I'll do better." 

"Let's do better together." Kissing Seungho's forehead, it was funny how to think that a year ago their positions had been reversed with Nakyum as the crying drunk and Seungho as the calm level-headed one. "You want some water?" It was cute how Seungho nodded; his eyes closed as he leaned into Nakyum's hands. "Anything else?" 

Seungho shook his head. "Will you stay here tonight? I...I can't sleep and..." 

“I was already planning on it when Jihwa and I brought you up." 

Seungho snorted a laugh. "I don't know why he helps me so much." 

"Because he cares." Biting his lip, Nakyum considered his next words carefully. "Introduce me to him some time." Watching Seungho as he lifted his head in shock, Nakyum smirked. "He's your friend and he's important to you. I know you guys have a history together but I want to know him. And I don't want you to feel like you have to hide him from me." 

Cheeks dimpling with the boyish smile Nakyum loved so dearly, Seungho lit up. "Sure," he said with a sweet petal soft kiss to Nakyum's lips. "He's sharp tongued and a bit of a jerk sometimes." 

“I know." 

Butting his forehead against Nakyum's, Seungho hung there in silence as he soaked in the warmth humming between them. "Thank you," he whispered. 

“For what?” 

"For saving me." 

Threading Seungho's loose hairs back behind his ears, Nakyum sighed with eyes fluttering shut. "Always." 


	16. A Boy with Love

............... _Christmas Day__early morning_...............

The snow had stopped falling but the chill clung to the morning air with a comfortable silence enveloping the room. There came a subtle shudder in the ducts as the heat turned on followed by a wash of warm air. The manual clock ticked and the muted sound of footsteps from the upstairs neighbors' children running through the apartment filled the space though only briefly. A taxi honked at another car down below on the streets outside. The woman down the hall passed by with her chocolate labrador barking excitedly for its morning walk. It was a morning much like every other. Normal and nondescript.

Smile curling the corners of his lips with dimples punctuating his cheeks in an almost childlike manner, Seungho studied Nakyum's countenance as he slept. Never had he felt such peace than in that moment. Never had he been so consumed with gratitude and joy that it'd make him cry yet there he laid with tears quietly falling as he chuckled at Nakyum's senseless muttering. He was so in love. So terribly enraptured. He didn't know what he would have done if they had broken up; if they had actually parted ways indefinitely because of what had happened. Didn't want to even think about it because the thought of it felt like needles prickling up from underneath his skin. Today wasn't for those sort of thoughts. Today wasn't for fear or anxiety or sadness. That morning was a miracle--a _true_ miracle made of flesh and bones with life's breath gently passing through soft pillowy lips. No. Today was for counting blessings and the multitude of ways in which he loved Nakyum.

Hand daring to move, Seungho reached up to touch the feathery lashes dusting Nakyum's fair skin. Let his fingers dance over his cheek to his jaw then down to his chin. Thumb swiping over his lips, Seungho could feel his throat tighten and mouth run dry. He wanted to kiss him; wanted to hold him and make love to him and hear his sweet voice pur words of affection in his ear. Wanted to hold him in his arms for an eternity, close his eyes, and let time slip away. He was so in love. So wrapped up in adoration that it choked all else out from Seungho. It was like drowning in honey--the sugary sweet haze filling his mind like a fog bank in the early morning. 

He'd loved Nakyum since the first night they had shared a bed. Had adored everything about the trepidatious painter since the budding of their strange friendship. Loved it all from the way he parted his hair to how he pronounced piano like pin-nan-no and the way he purposefully mismatched his socks for "concentration purposes" whenever he started a new painting. Hand retracting as Nakyum stirred, Seungho laid there with baited breath as if he were waiting to see heaven's gates open. First there came a small muted groan then the rigid stretching of legs and arms as Nakyum awoke; his eyes fluttering open last with a gentle sigh.

Gazing at one another for a long leisurely moment, it was Nakyum who spoke first with a smile painting his delicate features. "Morning," he beamed; hair a mess--all snuggled up in the Stanford raglan that was more his now than it was Seungho's.

"Morning," Seungho smiled.

"Merry Christmas."

Words failing him momentarily, Seungho closed the space between them with a kiss; his arms immediately coming to rest wrapped around Nakyum's waist and shoulders with fingers tangling in his silky hair. "Merry Christmas," he murmured against the painters lips. Nose brushing Nakyum's with the cheeks pressed together in a tender affection nuzzling, he savoured the moment. "I thought you weren't real for a moment when I woke up this morning."

"How long have you been up?"

"An hour? Maybe longer. I wasn't paying attention."

Giggling as Seungho buried his face in his chest, Nakyum pulled him in closer. Held him tighter because he needed it just as much as Seungho did. "I missed you." The admission wasn't anything fancy. Wasn't embellished with long winded explanations to justify his actions the night they had fought or heavy lamenting apologies. It was short and honest. "I love you Seungho," he said with a doting kiss to his forehead.

"I love you Nakyum," Seungho parroted without hesitation; kissing Nakyum's throat just below his Adam's apple before resting his face in the crook of his neck. "Thank you for forgiving me."

"So long as you forgive me."

"For what?"

"For yelling at you and cornering you like that. I should have just talked to you; told you what I was feeling and what was going on with me instead of putting all of that pressure on you to just magically figure out how I'm feeling." Mindlessly carding his fingers through Seungho's hair, Nakyum felt his chest throb with guilt. "I know you're busy. That you can't help it. It's not like people want to get sick or have these crazy surgeries. You were only doing your job and I lashed out at you when you confronted me for doing the same. It was immature."

Smirking innocently, Seungho pressed in as closely as he could so that there wasn't a breath of air between them. "I forgive you."

"So we're good?"

He nodded. Seungho hadn't realized how much he needed to hear Nakyum say those words. To validate what he'd been feeling during their argument the way he had acknowledged Nakyum's pain the night before when he drunkenly begged for forgiveness. It felt like a weight had lifted from him; that he could breathe easy again now that the dust had settled and they had made it out of this storm together. Listening to Nakyum breathe--the sound matching the tranquil beating of his heart, Seungho made a number of promises to himself in that moment; some he didn't dare speak, not yet at least.

"Let's never fight like this again," Nakyum murmured into the small space in which they happily existed. Kissing Seungho's crown, he shut his eyes with a dichotomous of both relief and desperation. "I know it's impossible to say we'll never fight but let's not let it get this far again."

Opening his own eyes as Nakyum spoke, Seungho tilted his head to the side--his pensive umber gaze fixed upon the wall as if it held the answers to his questions. "When I was little, Seungwon and I used to fight all the time. I can't remember what we fought about," he said with a hint of humor peppering his tone, "but I remember that it got so bad we would actually start beating on each other. After whooping our asses, my mom sat us both down so that we could talk things out. Eventually we decided we should have a safeword that would be a signal to stop before things got out of hand. We could do that," he suggested, head craning back to look up at Nakyum with wide gleaming eyes.

"I thought safewords were for sex," Nakyum snorted a laugh while wondering how someone could project both boyish charm and unfathomable allure with one look.

"Not always."

"Then what'd be our safeword?"

Pondering the question only momentarily, Seungho's face sprunched up with his nose wrinkling slightly. "Kiwi."

"What?" Nakyum laughed again then riotously for a third time when he saw Seungho's look of repulsion. "Why kiwi? And why do you look like that when you say it?"

"I hate kiwi's. Never liked the taste and they look like old man balls."

Breaking out into a full blown howl of laughter, Nakyum shook beneath the press of Seungho's body splayed over his. "Old man balls? How did you get that from a fruit?!"

"I work in medicine and you get grunt work when you start out as an intern. There was a stint of three days where my attending had me doing prostate exams. I almost went straight after seeing that many old men naked and bending over in front of me."

"Oof," Nakyum snarked without any bite to his still humored tone--Seungho remaining in his arms as Seungho propped himself up enough that they could see each other. "Well I'm grateful you didn't. Didn't turn straight I mean. That would've been really awkward when I got drunk and kissed you that first time."

"Well you're pretty so I would've eventually come back to my senses."

Nakyum snorted a laugh. "So it's my face you're after?"

"Not only your face but it's an added bonus."

"Ass."

Crawling up so that they were face to face, Seungho loomed over him for only a moment. "Yeah, but you love me."

"I do," Nakyum breathed, suddenly breathless now that all of Seungho's attention was on him. Those arresting eyes. Those teasing lips and cheeky dimples that played hide and seek every time he smiled. Swallowing hard as tendrils of his ink black hair spilled over Seungho's shoulders just enough to dust his cheeks, Nakyum was almost embarrassed by how quickly he'd gotten hard. "Seungho..."

Gaze swimming with the same need--the same ardor and plea, Seungho closed the space between them. Mouths coming together in a fervent kiss, they tasted each other properly for the first time in what had felt like a millennia. He could feel himself melting into the embrace. Dying a little every time Nakyum breathed his name like a prayer--his hands soaring over the painters warm body that fit so perfectly against his own with Nakyum's hands pressed to his back to hold him close.

Hips rolling and rutting together in sync with one another with matching heartbeats, they were intoxicated from the simplest of touches. Wasted from the dizzying press of lips, the teasing of tongues, and shared breaths and heated glances. Without thought they stripped each other--felt a primal need to be laid bare to one another; to have the scars of their love etched into their skin. Like mapping the stars, Seungho trailed from Nakyum's jaw to his neck and chest leaving a trail of pink bruises and shallow bite marks in his wake. Teasing his nipples while gently--tauntingly--stroking his aching member, Seungho loved every sound he dragged out of the painter. Committed the sight of him writhing in pleasure beneath him to memory. 

' _There's still beautiful things in this world,_ ' he thought quietly as their gazes met and Nakyum reached his hands up to frame Seungho's face. "My Nakyum..."

"Seungho," Nakyum gasped past a moan. Briefly losing his train of thought as Seungho kissed him breathless with a playful bit to his lower lip, Nakyum pressed his body up against Seungho's. "Take me. Make love to me."

Kissing Nakyum's cheek, Seungho brushed their noses together. "I always do." Kissing him once more before returning to the map he had been creating across Nakyum's chest and over his stomach, Seungho murmured, "Relax. Let me do everything today."

Shivering as the words were spoken against the soft smooth skin of his belly, Nakyum choked on a silent cry of delirium when Seungho took his entire length into his mouth. Hand cupping his balls to give a gentle tug, Nakyum would have flown off the bed if Seungho wasn't holding him down at the hip--his thumb rubbing soothing circles into the subtle protrusion of his hipbone. Moaning shamelessly when the attention shifted and he felt a damp press to sensitive space beneath his balls, Nakyum was high off the euphoria. Could float away and almost did when he felt himself open to the gentle yet determined intrusion of Seungho's tongue. He'd never allowed himself to be this vulnerable with another person. Had never let himself be taken in such a way by a partner. But he wanted this. Wanted to be unraveled and put back together by Seungho. Trusted him with his body, his heart, his love. There was no fear now. Just life--just love and devotion.

Legs folding over Seungho's shoulders out of instinct to be closer while his nails raked faint pink trails into his back, Nakyum fought to keep himself from cumming. He didn't want to finish without Seungho. Didn't want to do it alone despite knowing that his partner was more than happy to get him off once or twice without paying any attention to his own needs. That wasn't what Nakyum wanted. Wasn't what he needed--what he desired with every burning fiber within him that had been sparked to life.

"S-Seungho," Nakyum choked; his whole body trembling with unspeakable pleasure when he felt two fingers press inside him, gently and carefully working him open. "It's e-enough. Please!" he yelped. "P-Please. I need you. Don't m-make me wait. I can't w-wait..."

Heated gaze watching Nakyum for a second longer, Seungho reached over to the side table drawer--opening it quickly to remove the small bottle of lube they kept there then closing it. In a flurry of swift motions, he dripped a generous portion into his palm to stroke down his length. It had nearly been a month since they had last had sex and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt Nakyum. They had rushed things once before and could still remember the pained expression on the painters face when he had pulled back to look at him. 

"Tell me if it hurts," Seungho rasped; his voice thick with desire and rough from the strain wrought by his self-control. Curling his fingers beneath Nakyum's chin, he lifted his face until they were looking each other in the eyes. "'Kay?"

Swallowing, Nakyum nodded. "Yeah. Just hurry," he whined, his arms fighting to bring Seungho closer because he hated the feeling of there being air between them. This cruel heat in his veins. This wild urgency that drove him to lust hastened madness. Only Seungho could have him like this. "Seungho..."

Nakyum's plea was answered with a kiss--long and deep--as Seungho pressed all the way inside; the tight heat of Nakyum's body welcoming him until they were flush against one another. Hovering in silence as Nakyum moaned his contentedness whilst adjusting to the stretch, Seungho rested his forehead against his lover's collarbone. Drank in the heat of his skin and the tantalizing smell of his sweat as it beaded across his chest and neck. Licking a path up to his jaw, he gave Nakyum's earlobe a mischievous bite before thrusting into him with a boyish smirk.

Lips meeting once more the way they always did when there was so much they wanted to say but couldn't find the words to express themselves, Seungho secured Nakyum's left leg around his hip--held it there with one hand while the other sought out it's companion. Fingers desperately weaving together in a tight knit as they moved together, Seungho pressed their joined hands into the pillows above Nakyum's head. Cries of unspeakable pleasure were shamelessly moaned into the space; their voices echoing off the walls accompanied by the sound of skin against skin and mangled breathing as they climbed closer to euphoria. 

Free hand coming to tangle itself in Seungho's hair, Nakyum gave it a rough pull with a roll of his hips--lips twitching into a smile because he loved the feral response it elicited from Seungho. He loved the worshipping and the doting. Loved the way Seungho would sweetly and tauntingly wind him up while they made love--pushing him right to that edge and letting him linger for a moment before they fell over it together. But Nakyum also loved that rougher side of Seungho. Got a thrill out of how easily the man could toss him around, push him up against a wall or pin him to a bed, and have his way with him. But what made Nakyum fall apart the quickest was that flicker of predatory lust--burning and untamed--that sparked deep in Seungho's eyes whenever Nakyum teased him. It was the little things that'd do it like biting on his ear, clawing at his back, or whispering dirty little request against his lips. Yet what Nakyum found worked best was a yank to his hair. And in some ways it was Nakyum's way of getting revenge for Seungho knowing all of his buttons and switches.

Licking his lips as Seungho growled a moan deep in his throat, Nakyum could feel the heat coiling up in him so tightly it could have snapped. "Seungho," he mewled; voice stunted and airy. "I...I'm gonna cum. You're gonna make me...gonna make me...!"

Back bowing and body twisting under the hard wash of pleasure, Nakyum came; his lungs burning from the sudden gasp of air as Seungho continued thrusting into him until he too found his release. Lungs heaving and body shivering at the slightest touch, he was a boneless puddle. A grateful mat on which Seungho could lay. As much as he enjoyed the act itself, what Nakyum truly loved was the afterglow. Those long ceaseless moments after sex when they held each other close and whispered sweet nothings and silly jokes between kisses. This was his joy. This was his heaven; his miracle.

"You know," Nakyum rasped; his voice hoarse and rough as if he'd been gargling stones. "I'd live in a cardboard box with you."

Snorting a laugh, Seungho rolled his head so that he was looking up at Nakyum with a cheek pressed sweetly to the painters dewy chest. "You would?"

Nakyum nodded; fingers once more returning to comb through the long silky hair he loved.

"You wouldn't care if I was penniless?"

Nakyum shook his head. This time with a smile. "I'd love you just the same."

Beyond words, Seungho moved just enough so that they could kiss. "Don't ever leave Nakyum," Seungho murmured; his face hidden against Nakyum's temple and ear where he had nuzzled in. "I can't do this without you anymore. I'm useless without you."

"Me too. I couldn't do anything while we were apart. I'd sit in that stupid studio staring at my canvas and start crying."

"I cried in the showers at work," Seungho confessed. "Only interns cry in the showers but I did it four times last week."

Kissing between Seungho's eyes, Nakyum relaxed; letting his eyes close and his breathing even out. "I won't leave so long as you don't either. I told you last night after all. You're my person."

Smirking, Seungho relaxed too when he felt the tension release in Nakyum's muscles. "Sounds like a proposal to me." Restraining a chuckle when he heard Nakyum swallowed hard, he exhaled a deep calming breath. "One day it will be. But I want to be the one that asks."

"Seungho..."

"That's what it means. To never let go. To never leave each other. Or do you not want to?" His question was calm and nonintrusive; casual almost if it weren't for the slight twitch of his fingers atop Nakyum's chest.

"I do," Nakyum whispered when he had found the courage and the words to speak. Rolling onto his side just as Seungho opened his arms to him, Nakyum buried himself in Seungho's warm embrace. "I want that for us too."

"So it's a promise?"

Nakyum nodded.

Cheeks dimpling as that lopsided boyish smirk returned, Seungho shut his eyes.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

............... _One Friday Afternoon__mid-february_...............

Boney M.'s funky Cossack disco "Rasputin" played over the Bose speakers overhead in the living room as Nakyum navigated past the boxes upon boxes that he and Seungho had yet to unpack. they had decided in late January that they'd move in together and that, after looking at countless other apartments, that Seungho's was the best and roomiest. That it was the perfect place to build a home together rather than trying to start over somewhere else. He was admittedly afraid at first. Had never lived with anyone apart from his parents and grandfather. Moreover, Nakyum had been told by a number of ex's that he was too clingy; that his neediness had choked out any romance and was the reason he had been left. But Seungho wasn't like the others.

Just as Nakyum clung to him, Seungho needed him just as much if not more sometimes. They were equally dependent on one another. Needed constant affection like roses needing frequent watering in the sweltering summer heat. For once, Nakyum's love was neither greater or less than that of his partners. For once, they were equals. Held the same sway in each others lives and were made aware of their importance; were told of their significance between morning kisses in bed and at night when they curled up on the couch together as both he and Seungho came down from a long day of work.

Yelping abruptly as he tripped over a small cluttering of art supplies that he had haphazardly thrown into a shoebox, Nakyum fell flat on his face; smacking the ground with a hard thud. Not to far behind was Seungho who had heard the almost cat like cry over the music. He had been making them lunch in the kitchen after working all morning on organizing the guest bedroom that they had reconfigured into a studio for Nakyum. He was surprised how many canvases and easels and tool boxes and half empty tubes of paint the painter owned. Even more puzzling was why he insisted on hanging on to a bucketful of old ratty paintbrushes that no one in their right mind would use. It was after bickering over Nakyum's unnatural attachment to the multiple empty tubes of Russian blue that Seungho gave up and left to go make lunch.

Wandering out into the living room, Seungho's expression crumpled into one of confusion when he looked about but didn't see Nakyum. "Babe?" he called; feet stopping mid-step when he heard a groan. Looking over the towers of boxes blocking his view, he saw Nakyum rolled onto his back with blood trickling down from his nose. "Holy shit," he gasped; not sure if he wanted to laugh or cringe. Helping his wounded partner up, he sat him down on the couch--quickly stopping him as Nakyum tried to lean his head back. "No no, don't do that. It could drain into your airway if you tilt your head back."

"Then what do I do?" Nakyum groaned. His head was still pounding from the impact and it likely would have hurt more if his nose wasn't screaming at him. "It hurts so much. Does it look broken?"

Gaze scrutinizing and objective, Seungho grabbed for the tissues on the coffee table to dab away some of the blood. "No," he said with caution. "I don't think it's broken. Maybe a little bruised because you hit the ground pretty hard. What were you even doing?"

"I was trying to get past the boxes and missed the shoebox right there," Nakyum spat to himself with a peppering of embarrassment as he pointed to the rouge that tripped him. "God it hurts."

"Hold on, I'm gonna grab some ice. Keep pressure on it and try to breathe through your mouth." Disappearing into the kitchen while Nakyum hunched forward with a groan, Seungho clicked his tongue with 'tch' when he reappeared. Sitting down on the coffee table across from Nakyum, he sat him up straight--snorting a short laugh when the painter whined when the ice pack made contact with his tender nose. "Stop," he droned as Nakyum squirmed. "You'll make it worse."

" _You'll_ make it worse," Nakyum countered petulantly. Watching as Seungho moved his hand away with an arched brow, he stammered. "W-What? Don't give me that look!"

"Then don't be a brat and let me help you."

"Then be gentle."

"I _am_ being gentle." Waiting until he had stopped fussing, Seungho held the ice in place a minute longer then moved it away to give his nose another look over. "Just some light bruising. You'll live. Just watch out for those wild boxes. They're dangerous."

"Do you really need to be an asshole right now?"

Smirking teasingly, Seungho kissed his cheek in apology before standing up. "I'm almost done making lunch. You want to eat here or at the table?"

"Here please."

"'Kay. Want to watch something while we eat? They've got new seasons of Iron Chef and Kitchen Nightmares on Hulu."

"What about the Great British Bake Show?" Nakyum called as Seungho returned to the kitchen.

"Whatever you want sweetness."

Smiling at the pet name--the name Seungho didn't even realize he called him most of the time--Nakyum reached for the remote. "Oh, by the way, you got a call."

"Really? Who from?"

"Don't know. It was a long number though. Might've been an international call."

"Huh, that's weird." Carefully moving through the maze of boxes with their lunch--chicken caprese sandwiches and a salad--Seungho sat down next to Nakyum. "I don't know anyone outside of the states except for my relatives in Seoul. Probably the wrong number." Reclining back after one last glance to Nakyum's nose followed by a kiss to its reddened button point, Seungho finally relaxed after a long morning of labor. "So what're we watching?"

"Great British Bake Show."

"Awesome. We're on season three right?"

"Four. You slept through the last two episodes of season three. Wanna rewatch them?"

"Sure," Seungho smiled as Nakyum eased into the couch with him--his arm casually draped over Nakyum's shoulders.

"No falling asleep this time."

Seungho smirked. "I won't."


	17. To See Without My Eyes

............... _An Early Spring Morning__late april_............

Pale sunshine trickled in through the drawn muslin curtains, spilling onto the floor and rumpled bedding in buckets. The baby birds in the nesting created by their parents in the trees outside chirped enthusiastically for their morning meal while the cars sailed by on the streets below. It had rained the night before and two days straight a few days ago and the asphalt still smelt of the rains musk. Patches of dwindling snow clung to their last breaths of life as the spring sun melted them with each passing day--each sunny afternoon and cheery morning cooled only by the breeze and rain.

Stretching with a dreamy smirk--dimples dimpling his cheeks the way they did with boyish charm--Seungho rolled onto his side with an outstretched arm searching and seeking. Breathing a sigh as his arms came to curl beneath his pillow as he laid on his stomach with hair in utter disarray, he opened his eyes. Staring at the empty left side of the bed outlined by the glittering gleam from the sun, he smiled. Taking another moment to wake up, he sat up and slipped on a pair of pants so he was at least partially clothed then made his way to the studio down the hall.

What had once been a guest bedroom a year ago was now Nakyum's art studio. Fitted and stocked with everything he needed and could ever want, Seungho had made the space in part with ulterior motives. He didn't like that Nakyum was spending so much time on campus or around Professor Jung even if there was nothing between them. Just being around someone so deep in their toxic homophobia worried Seungho. He also didn't like the number of late nights Nakyum had to spend at the studio only to travel home after the sun had gone down when the chances of being mugged were greater. The campus and their apartment may have been in a ritzier part of town but Manhattan was still part of New York and there was a reason why the rich and poor alike carried mugger money regardless of where they went.

Not concerning himself with knocking on the door, he opened the studio door; smile growing at the sight before him. Seungho always did love it when Nakyum was deep in thought. Loved the look scrutinizing--borderline vexed--expression he'd get and the way he'd fold his arms across his chest with the thumbnail of his left thumb pinched between his teeth. Paint splattered denim coveralls with the sleeves tied around his slim waist and shaggy hair pulled back from his eyes--a smudge of cotton candy pink paint on the arm of his glasses. Nakyum was perfect. The very image of chaotic genius. That lazy morning was no different.

Slinking up behind Nakyum, Seungho wrapped his arms around his waist; placing light adoring kiss to the soft skin at the nape of his neck. "Morning sweetness," Seungho said in near prayer as he kissed the string of beauty marks scattered across the back of Nakyum's neck; taking a long loving breath as he reached the space behind his ear where the painters hair curled and covered the shell of his ear. "What's happening in there right now?"

It was a funny little question Seungho asked Nakyum whenever he was thinking deep and searching for something he couldn't quite find on his own. Like a helping hand, it was Seungho's way of offering his assistance despite knowing nothing about art creation or composition. Yet even so, it was welcomed. Showed that he cared about Nakyum's work and process just as much as he cared about what came from it as a result.

"I just..." Nakyum muttered with a long static pause as the words danced around in his head before landing on his tongue. "Something feels off. But I don't know what." Staring at the painting--the fourth in a series of twelve that focused in on parts of the body and highlighted their curves and contrasting beauty, Nakyum sighed a muddled groan from behind pursed lips. "Does it look funny? It looks funny to me."

Gaze shifting from the side of Nakyum's face to the detailed painting of a back--his back--contrasted with pale gold streaks and soft tones of rosy pink and moody Parisian blue to contour the sheets, Seungho briefly returned to the morning Nakyum had first sketched the picture. They had made love the night before numerous times with Seungho falling asleep first after a shower while Nakyum was still rinsing off. The next day he had awoken to the feather light touch of Nakyum's fingers tracing figures over his back and shoulders. He had asked Seungho to pose for him for a moment after a kiss that dripped with affection and devotion--the kind that left one feeling content and fulfilled from the deepest hollows of their heart. The kind of love that spread through bones and skin and permeated every inch of the beloved.

Resting his chin on Nakyum's shoulder as he mindlessly and gently massaged the firm yet plush round of Nakyum's hips, Seungho studied the image while trying to remain objective. "Maybe a pinch more titanium white to balance out the yellow highlights. You have enough blues and pink undertones. Maybe the white with some dove gray to really make the creases in the sheets pop." Rolling his head to the side, he kissed Nakyum's cheek. "What do you think?"

Consternation melting at the sweet touch of lips and hands on his hips, Nakyum nuzzled his cheek against Seungho's while sinking into the embrace of the man's arms. "I think you may be right baby."

"Mmm, say that again."

"You're right."

"No, the other part."

Snorting a short laugh, Nakyum lifted a hand to frame Seungho's face and guide his lips back to where they belonged--against his. "Baby," Nakyum whispered with a teasing smile as he pecked his lips then brushed their noses against one another. "You like when I call you that?"

"I love it when you call me that," Seungho shamelessly admitted; his grip tightening around the painter's body.

Exhaling a euphoric sigh, Nakyum shivered as Seungho's knowing hands wandered over his hips to his waist with one smoothing up his chest. "I love it when you call me sweetness."

"Do you?"

Nakyum nodded, too distracted by the heat building up slowly in the pit of his stomach--spreading through his nerves and veins like fire.

"Do you have any plans for today?" Nakyum shook his head drawing a devious smirk from Seungho. Pressing his hips flush against Nakyum's so that he could feel his morningwood while the hand that had been wandering up the painter's chest slipped under his shirt to toy with his chest, Seungho licked then bit Nakyum's earlobe. "Nakyum," he whispered in that irresistible voice that was all ardor and longing, "I want you."

"Seungho..."

Kissing down his neck, Seungho held back the satisfied chuckle when Nakyum pressed his ass back into his pelvis; grinding on him without much thought. "Let me have you. Right here. I want to do it in here."

"In the studio?"

Seungho answered with a low growl and roll of his hips.

Shivering, Nakyum's right hand shot up to tangle in Seungho's silken hair as an unashamed moan ripped through him. "Y-Yes," he panted. "Oh God, please. Fuck, how do you do this to me?"

Laughing at his lover's frustration yet complete surrender, Seungho turned him around so that he could see that impassioned blaze in Nakyum's stunning amber eyes. "The same way you do it to me." Kissing him as if he were starved, he smoothed the hair back from Nakyum's forehead--fingers removing the hairband stuck in his locks--while the other held the painter firmly against him. "You don't have any plans for the afternoon, right?"

"No. You?"

"Not one," Seungho smirked. Lips crashing together, he smiled at the near frantic urgency driving them into action. "Fuck, I love you," he growled with a smile as he lifted Nakyum in his arms--the painters legs hooking around him for support. "Got no control when I'm with you."

"Good," Nakyum grinned teasingly as he was pressed against the wall. "I want you to lose control."

"Do you?"

Nakyum nodded. "Do it baby," he cooed with a kiss. "Lose control."

Seungho smiled; moving until there was no space between them and he could feel Nakyum's breath waft over his cheeks. "As you wish."

\---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---

............... _4:43pm_...............

Groaning as the phone vibrated on the nightstand, Seungho stirred from the nap he and Nakyum had been taking. Sprawled out on the bedroom floor atop the duvet and sheets they had pulled down from the bed so that they could relax without the carpet irritating their backs, they were pleasantly exhausted from the spree they had been on all day. It had started that morning with a kiss. Before either of them knew what had happened the rose colored haze of their combine desire had carried them away. 

From the studio to the living room on the couch and then coffee table to the bathroom and finally the bedroom they had at last come to rest--the two or so hours of relaxation passing swiftly as they slept like the dead with Nakyum laid atop Seungho; their naked frames fitted together with familiarity as Nakyum's head rested on Seungho's chest and Seungho's hand on Nakyum's back. But the quiet of their world was burst by the loud hum of the phone as it vibrated irately on the nightstand.

Rolling Nakyum off from him, Seungho cracked his neck, back, and shoulders then stood to see who was calling as well as the time. Eyes wide and stunned when the clock read four-forty-three in the evening, he laughed to himself. They really had had sex all day though it wasn't a first for them, it just didn't happen as often as it used to like last summer when they were insatiable. Unlocking the screen to see whose call he had missed, a smirk quirked his lips when he saw the series of texts from Miranda and Kat asking him if he and Nakyum were still in on the trip they were all planning to LA in the summer. Tapping out of the inbox he tabbed over to the log of recent calls.

"Who was it?" Nakyum drawled from the where he laid; his hair still a glorious untamed wreck with hickies and faint bite marks littering his back and shoulders.

"Jihwa," Seungho replied without thought, holding the phone up to his ear to listen to the message that'd been left. After a minute, his hand fell. "He called to see if we were free for drinks tonight."

"Uhhhh..."

"It's up to you if we go. I'm down for anything." Joining Nakyum back on the floor, he wrapped them up in the blankets as the air conditioning turned on. Pressed chest to chest with legs tangling, he brushed the hair back from Nakyum's forehead before peppering his brow with kisses. "What do you wanna do?"

"Mmm, what if we did pizza and drinks here and just hung out? We could invite some friends over and watch movies."

"Sounds nice. Miranda has been telling me we need to be more friend inclusive. She says you're stealing me away from her," he chuckled.

"I mean I kind of am."

Laughing, they rolled onto their sides--lips coming together for a soft chaste kiss that was all adoration and fondness.

"I'll text them all in a bit. Let's relax a little longer though."

"Sure," Nakyum nearly purred his contentment, eyes fluttering shut once more the warmer and more comfortable he became. "We can take a shower in a half hour. 'Kay?"

Seungho just nodded, he already dozing off with a dreamy smile painting his countenance.

\---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---

............... _11:05pm_...............

"Fuck you you fucking fuck, God damn it!" Miranda roared as Seungho removed one of the bottom side blocks of the Jenga tower, carefully placing it on top of the others with a smug smile. 

Wagging his head with a shimmy of his shoulders, he taunted her the way he always did when they all got drunk and decided to play Jenga despite the things it did to them in their drunken stupor. Nights like these always started innocently--a few beers, pizza from Little Italy Pizza with slices the size of their heads, and a slew of horror movies both good and bad. None of they ever grew tired of the medical and anatomical fallacies in the movie genre which was why they mostly laughed their way through the films. But after two or three they'd become sidetracked by either Saad’s shit talking or Miranda's incessant urging to sing karaoke. Eventually Kat would lose it and turn the movie off and Seungho would groan as he switched over to youtube so that they could look up karaoke songs. However, that night, Miranda had challenged Jihwa and Seungho to Jenga after Saad poked fun at how they'd become known for their steady hands garnering them the nicknames "Coolhand" Seungho and "Smooth Operator" Jihwa.

Maneuvering around the coffee table where the Jenga tower was teetering on the brink of collapse, Miranda gave a disgruntled whimper. "Why do you always do this? God, you're such a dick sometimes."

Seungho could barely hold back a laugh; it becoming entangled in his throat forcing the sound into something of a snorted cough. Glaring at him, Miranda pushed her glasses back up her delicately sloped nose before getting in close to the tower. Gently tapping the wooden blocks, she tested for those that were stuck in place and ones that had a little bit of wiggle to them. Green eyes sparking up with excitement when a side block practically slid out from its spot, she, as well as the others, held their breath as she cautiously removed it then gently--very gently--sat it on top next to Seungho's.

Sitting back, Miranda threw up hand signs with a proud smirk. " _Bitch_."

No sooner had the words been spoken that the tower came tumbling down accompanied by the collective outcry of the group peppered with hysterical laughter and Saad booing. Kat cackled on the couch from where she had been observing and Jihwa high-fived Seungho. Omari had been filming the whole thing on Instagram live--the camera quickly switching to his face when the tower collapsed to capture both the humor and shock written across his face.

"Coolhand strikes again," Saad snarked from the couch.

"You guys cheated," Miranda groused.

"How did I cheat?" Seungho asked; his lopsided smirk hardly helping the situation. Reclining against the foot of the couch with an arm slung around Nakyum's shoulders, he rested his head atop his partners'. "You know I always go for the side blocks."

“Yeah, that's cheating!”

"How?!"

"There's literally no rule that says he can't," Jihwa pointed out as he laid down on the floor--his hand steadying the bottle of beer he had balanced on his stomach. "Just chill. It's not that big of a deal."

Staring at Seungho a second longer, Miranda rolled her eyes, grabbed a new drink after emptying hers, then huffed out the rest of her dissatisfaction as she flopped against the coffee table; her chin resting on the wooden table top with her free hand fidgeting with the wooden blocks.

"Y'all down for never have I ever?" Omari asked after a moment of silence. An assertive collective 'yes' immediately followed. Arching a teasing brow with pursed lips, he grinned. "Who wants to start?"

"You start," Nakyum said casually.

"Yeah, you start it," Kat agreed.

Thinking for a moment, Omari cleared his throat. "Alright..."

"Make it a good one," Jihwa warned.

"Umm, okay, fuck Jihwa," Omari said with the same sass he had possessed years ago during his drag queen years. "Never have I ever sucked another man's dick."

"Ouch, going for the jugular right off the bat," Saad chuckled as he watched everyone except him and Omari drink. Pausing to think, it took Saad a moment to come up with something they hadn't already asked in previous games. "Okay. Never have I ever cried in the showers at work."

Taking a swig from her bottle, Miranda looked at Saad, "Yeah, because you're a robot."

Feigning insult with a gasp and dainty hand to his chest, Saad tilted his chin so he could look at her over the brim of his glasses. "I am an _alien_. You ma'am are being xenophobic."

"Xenophobia doesn't apply to aliens."

"That's something a xenophobe would say," he snarked.

"Okay, okay," Kat interjected. "Jihwa, it's your turn."

Staring up at the ceiling, Jihwa was silent for a minute, then another and another.

"Jesus man, you really have to think about it for that long?" Miranda chuckled.

"Hey, I never turn down a good time."

Seungho snorted a laugh. Nakyum rolled his eyes.

"Uhhhhh, okay, I think I got one," Jihwa announced. "Never have I ever have I cried while drunk and singing karaoke."

Everyone but him and Nakyum drank. Smacking her lips when she finished her bottle, Miranda grabbed another.

"Hmmmmm," she pondered. "Alright, this is a good one. Never have I ever been jackhammered."

Groaning, Jihwa and Kat drank while Nakyum shyly sipped his beer. Watching as the painter drank, Miranda snorted a laugh. It made sense that Jihwa would be drinking because he was fearless in bed regardless of who his partner was. The man would literally slap a man while having his hair pulled and tell his partner to thank him. But to see the bashful Nakyum drink at the challenge was near unbelievable. Perhaps he was more adventurous than she had anticipated.

"Okay Seungho, you're up," Miranda drawled teasingly.

Giving her the side-eye, Seungho pursed his lips; clicking his tongue once as he thought. "Never have I ever eaten a whole cake while I was drunk."

"Oh you bitch," Omari jeered before taking a sip while Seungho snickered with a cheeky grin. Clearing his throat, Omari pointed his bottle at him. "I'm coming for you."

Ignoring him, Seungho butted his forehead against Nakyum's jaw in a gentle nudge as he slid down to rest even more against the painter. "Your turn."

"Hmmm," Nakyum hummed with a little smile as he rested his head atop Seungho's. "Never have I ever gotten hit on by a rando while riding the subway."

"Wait, seriously?" Miranda asked suddenly; ignoring that she had to drink but instead popping up from where she had been laying on the carpet. "You've never been hit on while riding the subway? You're shitting me?!"

Shaking his head, Nakyum just smirked. "Nope, never."

"Really?! But you're so pretty!"

"Even I find that hard to believe," Jihwa added.

"Same," Saad said; brows furrowing when Kat and Omari looked at him. "What? I may not be gay or a woman but I appreciate good-looking people."

"Okay, all of you stop hitting on my boyfriend," Seungho demanded with a childish pout. Wrapping his arms around Nakyum's waist as he slunk down further, he beamed up at Nakyum from where he had come to rest--head on the painters lap with his chin just turned to his stomach. "If you want, next time we take the subway somewhere and I'll pretend to be a creep and hit on you."

"And he's drunk," Omari declared.

"We're all drunk," Saad corrected. Looking at the clock, his expression only changed minutely. "Well damn, it's already eleven-thirty."

"Seriously?" Miranda asked; her words followed by a groan. "I need to go. I have an eight o'clock case tomorrow. Fuck, I shouldn't have drank so much."

"You'll be fine once you pound back some water at home," Kat grunted as she sat up. "We'll head out first."

"I'll go with you guys since we're heading in the same direction," Omari said as he got up. "You want us to clean up?" he offered; looking between Seungho and Nakyum.

Shaking his head with eyes straining to stay open, Seungho yawned. "It's fine. Text me when you guys are home."

"Sure. Night."

"Night."

Cleaning up after the group, Saad and Jihwa were the last two to leave. They didn't live together but had apartments in the same building just a few blocks away so it wasn't much of a cab drive for them. Waving a goodbye as Jihwa tapped Seungho's knee in farewell, Seungho felt a strange sense of relief once they had all left. Curling up against Nakyum, he sighed quietly and happily--loving the sound of Nakyum's heart beating beneath his ear.

"I noticed you started a new series," Seungho mumbled; eyes not opening as he drifted in and out of dozing.

"Mhmm," Nakyum agreed; his fingers combing sweetly through his partner's hair. It had grown out since Seungho had cut it in December. It still wasn't the length it had been last year around this time but it was past his shoulders now which made it easy to tangle his fingers in whenever they had sex.

"I feel a little embarrassed that they're all of me."

"Why's that?"

Seungho shrugged. "Just am."

"Hmmm, well I could keep them private and restart with a new series. It'd be sad though because you're so pretty. I like showing you off."

Snorting a laugh, Seungho cracked open his eyes to look up at Nakyum who was staring down at him fondly. "You're the pretty one."

"You're pretty too."

"So? That doesn't mean you aren't." Flashing that devilish schoolboy grin with dimples showing, his grip around Nakyum tightened as Nakyum groaned his embarrassment while trying to escape his grasp. "Hey babe, guess what?"

"What?" Nakyum whined.

"I'd totally hit on you if I were a rando on the subway."

"Oh my God Seungho, stop."

"I'd come up to you and ask if you want to come back to my place and study some anatomy."

"Noooo." Nakyum's voice caught somewhere between laughter and humiliation.

"Hey Na, you get my heart racing like an epinephrine drip."

"Stop."

"Wanna be my emergency contact? I'll be yours if you'll be mine."

Groaning despite his smile, Nakyum managed to wiggle them onto their sides. "You're awful."

"And you raise my dopamine levels."

Laughing at how ridiculous Seungho looked laying there wagging a brow at him, Nakyum squished his face between his palms then kissed his forehead. "We should head to bed. I've got work tomorrow and you've got a hangover heading your way."

Seungho gave a cocky chortle. "This isn't going to give me a hangover. I only had four beers."

"Uh huh. Come on, up," Nakyum commanded while helping Seungho to his feet. Heart giddy when Seungho reached up to fix his hair, Nakyum smiled. "Wash up then sleep?"

"Yeah." Following Nakyum, Seungho froze mid-step when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, he stared at the screen with furrowed brows before looking up. "Hey, go wash up sweetness. I got to take this call."

"You sure?" Nakyum asked with growing concern as he watched Seungho's posture change as he headed toward the living room balcony. "I can stay, it's no problem."

"It's alright hun. Go wash up. I'll be there before you can miss me."

Nakyum knew better than to press him for answers. They told each other everything now since their first and only argument. What were a few more minutes? "Alright. Don't stay out there long. It's still cold and there's snow on the balcony."

"I won't. Love you sweetness." Smiling as Nakyum said 'I love you too' before leaving the living room, Seungho sighed when the phone began to vibrate in his hand again after the first call had gone to voicemail. Taking a deep grounding breath, he sighed then lifted the phone to his ear. "Dad...?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there y'all!
> 
> First, I want to thank you guys for reading this installment and for your continued support. I don't know if I mentioned this but because of y'all, this has now become the second most popular fic I've written and the most popular non-AOT fic I've written and it's all because of you, my lovely readers! So thank you so much.
> 
> Second, it is with bittersweetness and a heavy joy that I am announcing the final arch of this fic. From here there are only six chapters left at max, maybe less depending on the direction the story goes. I can't believe I started this fanfic back in spring and it's already reaching its conclusion. That's just wild. I don't think I've ever written a story that quickly. And while I'm sad that this journey is ending, it won't be the last POTN fanfic you see from me. I already have an anthropology based one I'm outlining which will be part of a series I've already started with a different fandom. For anyone interested in the first story in that series, check out my fic 'Transatlanticism'. The POTN fic will be similar (not exact!) to that. But yes, this one is going to be ending and I want to thank you all again for joining me on this ride.
> 
> Lastly, I want to announce that my release schedule for the following chapters won't be every other week. It may become once a month from now until December because I'm back in uni and I'm enrolled in fifteen units which is a lot and if my labs don't kill me my physics and calculus class will. LoL. But yeah, things may take longer to update so please don't hate me.
> 
> Anyhow, stay lovely and stay freaky!
> 
> -Mars-Sunday


	18. The Enchanting Ghost

............... _Plattsburgh, Lake Champlain, Mid-July__19 years ago_...............

Rapid shallow breaths and sporadic bursts of laughter and giggling echoed through the reeds and tall grass bordering the lakeside dunes. Stumbling feet and excited cries accompanied the sound of waves lapping at the shore as Soo-min and Seungwon leapt onto the soft sands followed swiftly by Seungho. Cheeks dimpled, his smile grew as he ran faster--feet in flight as he fled the woodlands edge. Calling to his siblings to run to the docks, he skipped and scampered, a shriek erupting from him when there came a roar from behind.

"I'm gonna getcha!" their father called as he raced down the shoreline after the three children; his deep navy blue shorts and white shirt rolled up to the elbows wet from the creek he'd tramped through. Hot on Seungho's heels, Siwoo gave a devilish smirk before pouncing the boy with a playful growl. "Gotcha!" he beamed; honey eyes bright and gleeful as he locked his arms around his son.

"Noo!!" Seungho cried out though not without a smile of his own.

His protest changed to laughter as Siwoo tickled his sides, rolling them over as Seungho squirmed and begged for mercy. It wasn't long though before his brother and sister came to his rescue--Seungwon banging his small fists against their father's back while Soo-min took Seungho by the wrists in an attempt to drag him away from the terrible "monster." The younger siblings shrieked and hollered as the monster sought his revenge on them--Siwoo rolling over onto his back with Seungho caught in in one arm while the other reached for Soo-min and his legs looped around Seungwon.

"The monsters' got you all! Now to take you back to my lair and cook ya'!" Siwoo grinned; his cheeks dimpling with slight lines crinkling around his eyes. "I'll turn you into jjamppong! Or maybe make you into monsters too!"

"Never!" Seungho declared, the boy somehow managing to wiggle out from the strong grip his father had on him. Climbing on top of Siwoo, Seungho began to poke his sides where he knew his father was ticklish. "I hate jjamppong soup!"

"Save us HoHo!" Soo-min cried and grunted as she too fought to free herself.

Hand struggling to get ahold of his intrepid son who had resorted to beating down on his chest, Siwoo cough a humored laugh. "Seungho, calm down."

"Let 'em go monster!" Seungho demanded with determination ablaze in his eyes. "You can't make them soup!"

"Alright," Siwoo relented momentarily. Releasing Soo-min and Seungwon, there was a pause before Seungho yelped when Siwoo jumped him. Scooping him up like a rucksack, he slung the boy over his shoulder--laughing wholeheartedly as he flailed and kicked and fought. "If I can't turn them into jjamppong I'll take you instead!"

"Let me go monster!"

"The hero must sacrifice himself for the townspeople," Siwoo teased as he towered over Soo-min and Seungwon who clamored at his legs in protest, once more kicking and hitting and tugging sharping at his shirttails. "It is his destiny. Now, back to the lair where mama monster awaits with a boiling pot!"

"No! I don't wanna be soup!"

They jogged back through the dunes and creek and spotted forest to the lakeside house of brick and climbing flower vines where cranes nested by the estuaries in the spring--back to the summer home Siwoo and Evelyn had made for their family years ago. Eyes aglow and smile glittering as the house came into view, Siwoo was filled with unspeakable joy. There Evelyn stood on the sheltered porch dressed in her favorite summer dress with the white eyelet flowers sewn into the linen. Her short jaw-length brown hair was tucked behind her left ear exposing the starburst earrings Mimi had gifted her for Mother's Day. Lifting a hand to her brows she peered out at them from across the yard as they all made it across the creek.

"I have returned mama monster with creatures for jjamppong," Siwoo called to her with a cheeky lopsided grin that teased at the dimple in his right cheek.

"It's too hot for soup though," Evelyn played along, she barely able to contain her laughter at the sight of their two youngest hitting her husbands thighs and yanking at his shirt. "Perhaps tteokbokki?"

"Ew, no!" Mimi squeaked in disgust. "Let 'im go! You can't eat my brother!"

"Then what about you?!" Siwoo teased as he swooped down to catch Soo-min in his other arm. "You look rather delicious!"

"Wonnie, help!" she plead.

Chuckling to herself as she stepped down from the porch--shaking her head as Seungwon charged their father's legs, effectively knocking them all to the ground--Evelyn picked up Soo-min; the child clinging to her mother with arms latched around her shoulders and neck. "Alright papa monster. I suppose we should let our brave heroes live," Evelyn smirked as she gently bounced and rocked Mimi in her arms.

Gazing up at her with fondness in his eyes, Siwoo sighed as he relaxed on the ground. "I suppose," he parroted. Ruffling Seungho's feathery black hair, he pinched his nose with a smile. "You win this one, sir knight."

Laying on his stomach with his chin resting on his father's shoulder, Seungho giggled victoriously. "We win Wonnie!"

"Yes!" Seungwon cheered from where he laid, still entangled in their father's legs; his little fists pumping up into the air.

"You boys hungry for dinner?" Evelyn asked before looking to Soo-min who was playing with her hair. Kissing her daughter's nose, she smiled. "You hungry Mimi?"

The little girl nodded; the untamed curls spilling out from her ponytail bouncing as she did.

"I want chicken nugget dinosaurs!" Seungwon roared excitedly.

"You had those for lunch sweetie," she argued.

"I want 'em again!"

"You're gonna get fat eating chicken nuggets," Seungho taunted; the boy fumbling to his feet.

"No I'm not."

"Yeah ya' are."

"You're gonna get fat!" Seungwon snapped. "Dad, HoHo's calling me fat!"

"Knock it off you two. Neither of you are fat," Siwoo groaned.

"I didn't say he was," Seungho said; his hands patting the dirt and grass off of his shirt and shorts. "I said he was _going_ to be."

"Jerk!"

"Haha!"

Reaching out as Seungho moved to run away, Seungwon grabbed his brother's ankle and gave it a firm yank. "That's what you get stupid."

Kicking his leg until Seungwon let go, Seungho was about to jump him but was caught by their father.

"Hey, enough rough housing you two or you'll go to bed without dinner."

Frowning, Seungwon stuck his tongue out at his brother; laughing when Seungho reacted. But before Seungho could hit him or push him over, Siwoo tossed the boy onto his shoulder and stood up--effectively separating the two young brothers.

"Alright, that's it. I'm turning you into jjamppong. Honey, warm up the stove."

"No! I don't wanna!" Seungho yelled: his legs and arms flailing about. "Put me down! Put me down!"

"Nope. I'm making you into soup."

" _Dad_ ," he whined now, pressing and pushing against Siwoo's back. "Nooooo!"

"Yup, you'll be jjamppong. I'll fatten you up with chicken nuggets and cheeseburgers and gobble you up."

"But that's cannibalism! You can't eat people!!"

"But I'm the monster of Lake Champlain and I feed on bad little boys and girls that live near the lake."

"I'm sorry! I won't hit Won!"

"You promise?" Siwoo asked; his brow arched and smirk tugging at his lips as he looked to Evelyn. "Hmm, what do you think mama monster? Should we let him go?"

"Hmmm, maybe. Is he sorry?"

"I'm sorry, I swear!" Seungho asserted. "I'm sorry I called Seungwon fat!"

Chuckling, Siwoo relented. "Do you accept his apology Won?" When Seungwon nodded, Siwoo pivoted with a grunt as he sat Seungho down. "No more fighting. Alright?"

Seungho nodded; his honeyed earthen eyes that resembled his father's glassy with abstained tears.

"Alright then," Siwoo said with a soft smile as he draped an arm around his son's shoulders. "Let's go."

"'Kay," Seungho answered back quietly; his gangly arm coming up to wrap around his father's hips.

Dinner was light and easy that night; a cobb salad and burgers with watermelon ice cream for dessert. Afterwards they all gathered on the back porch with a fire in the firepit--Siwoo telling them fantastic stories of ghosts and ghouls and fanciful beasts that roamed the woods while Evelyn reclined on the outdoor chaise with Soo-min snuggled into his side. The crickets sang and the frogs croaked down by the creek. A gentle wind whistled through the tall grass and the faint call of waves on the shore echoed in the distance.

It wasn't until half past eleven that the children had reached their limit for the day. With Seungwon asleep and curled into a ball on the armchair, Seungho drifted in and out of sleep--leaning against Siwoo with his head drooping from side to side in small circles as he fought to stay awake. Smile painting his countenance, Siwoo followed Evelyn inside; she carrying Soo-min and he holding Seungwon. Tucking them in first, he let their mother sing them to sleep as he hurried back downstairs to retrieve their eldest son. Stopping at the foot of the backdoor steps, Siwoo shook his head with fatherly adoration in his eyes when he saw that Seungho had finally fallen asleep on the deck. 

Gently and quietly picking the boy up with one arm under his legs while the other supported his head and shoulders, he couldn't believe how big Seungho had gotten in the last year. Still slender and awkward, the grown had shot up in height since February. ' _Stop growing up so quickly,_ ' Siwoo silently commanded. He wasn't ready for the boy to be eleven yet. Wasn't ready for him to grow up, hit puberty, or grow into those ears of his. It were as if it were only weeks ago that he and Evelyn had brought the premature Seungho home from the hospital. They had been so worried about him; neither of them sleeping the first three days because the doctor had warned them of a heart murmur. He was so little then--barely an ounce over five pounds with tiny hands that would search frantically for Siwoo's fingers. Only when Seungho had clasped onto his father's fingers would he calm down. Such a small sweet little thing. How had he grown so quickly into a loud rambunctious child?

Turning into Seungho's room across the hall from the one Mimi and Won shared, Siwoo laid the boy down in his bed and pulled the blankets up over his shoulders. Smoothing back his silky black hair, he just stared. Watched the child fondly as he slumbered--his gentle quiet breaths puffing past his lips. Siwoo had always wanted children but knew how dangerous it could be for Evelyn. She had only been in remission for a few months before they found out she was pregnant with Seungho. It was a miracle she was even able to conceive let alone carry the child to term. That boy, he was a miracle. A blessing that allowed them to have two more children. His first born and most dearest.

"Dad..?" Seungho mumbled; his eyes fluttering open minutely with a hand reaching up to take hold of his father's, the same way he would search for his fingers when he was a baby.

"Shh, go back to bed."

"Watch out for monsters..." Seungho said--his words barely coherent through the fog of sleep.

Smiling softly, Siwoo leaned down to kiss his forehead. "Night sir knight."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

............... _Upper East Side Manhattan in Early May__19 years later_...............

Stepping out of the black towncar, Seungho stared up at the art deco apartment building towering above him. Atop it sat a familiar penthouse with boxwood topiaries still lining the balcony borders on the first floor. Sniffling back the gut-wrenching seed of dread that had rooted itself in him, he headed inside. It had been eleven years since he had last visited home. Eleven years since he had stepped onto the private elevator only their family could use--he tracing the warped mercury in the mirrored glass lining the elevators interior. What was only a few minutes up to the top felt like an eternity. Anxiously he bit his thumbnail with eyes fixated on the number display above that counted the floors they had passed. Throat tightening when the lift stopped and the bell pinged, Seungho took a deep quiet breath as the doors opened.

Home was still the same as it always had been. Elegant yet modest. Indulgent but not gaudy or boarish. Redesigned by his mother it was simple but beautiful--welcoming just as she had been with rich warm wood floors in alternating colors and dove white walls with exposed bricks painted over. Seungho could see the ghost of his childhood self running up the grand spiral stairs as the lobby bled into the main living space. Could hear the laughter as he, Seungwon, and Soo-min played bandits in the upstairs loft that overlooked the living room. There had once been life in this old home. Cries of joy and nights filled with pillow fights and movie nights and indoor camping with pillow forts. Game nights with friends and snow days spent at home relaxing in the library or solarium. So many ghosts resided in this place. 

So many versions of himself that he no longer recognized had been laid to rest here. Incarnations of him pretending to be someone else all for the approval of others. And then there was the loudest ghost. The phantom of his nineteen year old self as he was exiled with his father yelling from across the room while their mother begged him to stop. Seungho could still hear the front door slamming shut behind him as Siwoo screamed curses at him--telling him to never show his face there again. Such beautiful memories of his childhood home now covered in mud like crystalline waters of a lily pond dirtied by feet kicking up muck. This was no longer his hom. This lovely palace their family had made now sat in memoriam to the sun-filled days it had once seen. No more was there to be any laughter filling her halls. No more was she to see nights spent telling stories or mornings shared over breakfast with smiles and jokes abound. The light had left this place. Now it served as a tomb; cold and unchanging.

"Seungho," called a voice from atop the stairs. A voice that even now, after years and years apart, Seungho could still pick out from a crowd.

Looking up, a small smile threatened to curl the corners of his lips. "Dad."

\---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---

Dishes cleaned, laundry folded, sheets changed, and shower finished in record time because Seungho wasn't there to distract from washing up, Nakyum found himself in a strange situation with extra time on his hands. He had finished the last layer on his last piece in the new series he had started. Had even considered starting in on another painting that he'd been dreaming up in his head for days--prepping the canvas and fitting the fabric to its wooden frame in the off-chance that his impulsiveness gets the better of him. Yet rather than stow away in his studio, Nakyum had dimmed down the flood lights in the living room, lit his favorite cedar and salt candle that smelled of the ocean breeze, and began reading the anthology book of poetry that he had bought last week.

Curled up under a thick plaid throw blanket with pillows and cushions stacked behind his back for comfort, he thumbed through the pages to find the corner he had dogeared. It had taken some getting used to--reading the poetry in the book. He hadn't read anything in French in years despite having a minor in it. Smiling to himself as the texture of the paper rubbed pleasantly against his fingertips, he thought back to the days when he was working towards his bachelors. Strange was it how much had changed in the seven years since then.

Seven years ago, Nakyum had just broken up with his first serious boyfriend. He thought he had been in love. Thought that what they had was eternal; that their mornings together would never end and that what they had was greater than what others saw. He'd been so naive. So young and hopeful for love that he didn't see the red flags. Thought nothing of how his ex isolated him from his friends, shut him away, told him how to dress and how to behave. Nakyum thought that was what love looked like. He didn't realize until there was a hand on his throat with words of vulgarity being spewed at him that this wasn't love. So he left. Changed schools and moved back in with his grandfather. He had dreamt of starting over in with a new identity in a new country. Thought he'd find happiness in Giverny, France the way Monet had. Was prepared to leave after graduating from his masters program but the unexpected happened.

Had he been told that he would meet the person who'd save him--set him free from his own self-hatred--in a park in the midst of a snowstorm Nakyum would have called the messenger crazy. Things like that did not happen outside of Hollywood movie sets. Fairytales like that were best kept to Disney where they belonged. And yet it had happened. Seungho had fallen into his life with all the grace of lightning strike and turned it all on its head. The loneliness he had felt before was a distant memory. That fear of not being enough, of being too much, or not being the right fit had been erased. Nakyum was so filled with joy and thankfulness that even in quiet moments alone like these he felt the same contentment that he did while enveloped in Seungho's loving arms. He had no need to escape to Giverny now. Had no need to practice French every day as if it were scripture because now he had found where he belonged.

Head lifting and gaze leaving from where it had been fixed on the pages below, a smile found its way to his face when the lock on the door rolled back and the entrance opened. He was always giddy for Seungho to come home. Always made sure to be free of any work so that they could relax together and enjoy their night after a long day. But Nakyum's expression fell when he saw the look on Seungho's face when he walked through the door; a listless sense of melancholy looming over him as he slipped his scarf around the hook on the wall and placed his house keys in the dish on the entry way table. Without words, Nakyum closed his book and sprang up from the couch. He made a line to the door; didn't say a word nor did he give Seungho the chance to either. Instead he took him in his arms, pulled him in close, and braced himself as he heard the tale-tell sniffles, spattered gasps, and heavy breaths break past his partners lips.

Kissing the shell of his ear and the soft skin of his cheek where it met Seungho's jaw, they stood there together--Nakyum holding him while Seungho fought to keep himself together. Something had happened. Something terrible. Maybe he lost a patient? Maybe it was a child or someone he knew very well? Or maybe he had messed up and got chewed out but Seungho never cried over that. He got frustrated and would rant on and hour for hours before coming to his own conclusion which usually was in line with what his superiors at the hospital had said.

Unsure of the cause but certain about what could be done to soothe him, Nakyum led Seungho to the couch where they laid down with Nakyum on his back and Seungho draped over him--his head resting over the painters heart with both eyes closed. Untying his partners hair tie, Nakyum tenderly combed his fingers through the silken strands; loving the way it felt while admiring how light and feather soft the hair was. It was just another thing he adored about Seungho. Another little secret he'd keep to himself because there were too many to say.

Tucking errant tresses behind Seungho's ear, Nakyum kissed the top of his head. "Bad day at work?"

Seungho was silent for a long moment; his lips flattening into a tight line before turning so that he could hide his face against Nakyum's chest. "I went to see my father today."

Nakyum was quiet. He knew he had heard him right. Knew his mind wasn't playing tricks on him yet could not believe the words that had just been uttered.

"He called a few days ago when everyone came over. Said he needed to talk to me. That he'd rather not discuss it over the phone." Voice rougher as the gravity of it all set in, the first tears broke free as Seungho took a deep grounding breath. "He has early onset dementia."

The words hit like a freight train.

"It's still in the beginning stages," Seungho continued. Body shifting, he nuzzled in to Nakyum who had tightened their hold on him--the speechless painter doing all he could to convey his support when words had failed. "He hardly has any symptoms. Just occasional forgetfulness and trouble with names and faces but more so than the usual. I know his doctor too and they're one of the best so it's not like he won't get the best care he can it's just...I..." Unsteady breath passing through his lips, Seungho sniffled; squeezing his eyes shut as all possible future outcomes raced through his head. "I know what happens to dementia patients. They're good for the first few years but then they take a dive and it's all downhill from there. Most of the time they have anywhere between ten to twenty years to live but most of those years are spent in a home with a caregiver. He won't be himself anymore. He won't be him and I don't know how to feel about that. I feel terrible because maybe he'll forget his homophobia but then what else is lost with that? I just...I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do Na and I'm so scared."

Arms encircled around Seungho, Nakyum held him as close as he could, pulled the blanket over them, and kissed Seungho's forehead. "What do you need?"

"Mmm?"

"What do you need me to do?" Nakyum asked, cupping either side of Seungho's face so that he could angle it enough that they were looking at each other. It pained him to see those beautiful brown eyes lamenting and full of tears. "I know you don't want to think right now but I don't know what to do. So I need you to tell me what you need, okay?"

Throat tight, Seungho swallowed back the miserable knot of anxiety and fearfulness that had been strangling him all evening. "Just stay with me. When things get rough, I need you to stay with me. I can't do this one on my own."

"Okay," Nakyum cooed; his voice just about a whisper as he peppered Seungho's countenance with petal soft kisses while his thumbs lovingly rubbed into the smooth skin of Seungho's cheek. "I'm right here baby. I'm not going anywhere, 'kay?"

Nodding, Seungho settled in--made himself comfy while once more admiring the warmth radiating from Nakyum. "He wants to meet you."

"Really?"

Seungho nodded. "He asked if I had a partner. I was hesitant but I didn't want to lie about you so I told him."

"What was his reaction?"

Staring at the candle flickering on the coffee table, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Not what I expected. He invited us to the family home up in Plattsburgh."

"You guys have a place in Plattsburgh?"

He nodded. "It was a dream vacation home my dad had built for my mom a little while before I was born. I haven't been there since I was a teenager though so I don't know what it looks like now."

"Would it be just the three of us?"

"No," Seungho said, his gaze following the dancing flame of the candle. "It's for a family reunion so it'd you us, Seungwon and Liza, Soo-min, my dad, our grandparents and maybe some aunts and uncles and cousins. We used to do it every year before my mom passed away. After that it was only once every other year then once every two years."

Quietly contemplating why Seungho's father could possibly want to meet him, Nakyum pushed the negatives to the wayside--choosing to have some faith in the man that had raised his partner. "Let's go."

Seungho's gaze lifted to meet Nakyum's--his earthen eyes shocked and bewildered by the painters answer. "You serious?"

Nakyum nodded.

"What if it's only to denounce us?"

Smirking just a little, Nakyum kissed him lightly on the lips. "We don't know that it is though. This could be his way of making amends with you. From what you've told me he's likely as stubborn as you so maybe this is the only way he can think of making you comfortable enough to be around him again." Smoothing back the hair from Seungho's face, he kissed his forehead. "Let's give him a chance."

Breathing easy for the first time since that afternoon, Seungho closed the space between them for a long lingering embrace. "I love you Nakyum."

"I love you too Seungho. We'll be alright, 'kay?"

Seungho nodded; head coming to rest in the crook of Nakyum's neck with eyes closed. "We'll be alright."


	19. Fireflies in the Tall Grass

............... _Plattsburgh, NY__late june_...............

There are things the mind forgets and things it can't. Things that stick and things that fade in the fog as one ages from youth into middle-age and then into old age. Siwoo could still remember the flirty red dress and shimmering silver heels Evelyn was wearing at the club when they first met. Could remember how ridiculous he felt under her deep smokey gaze--suddenly feeling insecure in his polo with the popped collar and hair slicked back. A James Dean look alike had been chatting her up; was impressing her with subtle flexes of his muscles through the fabric of his taut white t-shirt with a packet of cigarettes tucked into the rolled sleeve on the lefthand side. Siwoo could remember how she smiled before looking away from him--the memory moving in slow motion painted in the candy colored lights bouncing off the disco ball overhead.

Siwoo could remember how nervous he was on their wedding day but had forgotten the flavor of the cake. Couldn't recall the songs that had played but remembered how Evelyn smiled at him when they danced together for the first time as husband and wife. Remembered them moving into their first home and the hard times that came after. Blips here and there of jobs gone wrong, hard losses and struggling to find work. The uncertainty they both felt when he decided to leave the law firm he had been working for so that he could start his own. Siwoo remembered how he had once sat in the car late at night, crying in secret because their bills were coming due and he didn't know how they pay them all. Remembered wondering if he had been deserving of Evelyn. If she had made the right choice, marrying him instead of someone else who could give her stability. But had chosen him. Had chosen to love him and stand beside him through the good and the bad and together they made it out of the worst of their years together. 

It wasn't long after his law firm had gained traction that they were pregnant with Seungho. That miracle, Siwoo remembered how fearful yet joyful and enthusiastic they both were throughout the pregnancy. Somehow, even being as busy as he was, Siwoo had found the time to go to every childbirth education class and lamaze group. They had baby-proofed the entire home in the first trimester out of excitement and had painted the baby's room, and bought all his clothes by the second. It was any wonder how Evelyn had gotten pregnant that soon after his remission. Any wonder if she would be strong enough to carry that child to term. But she was a fighter. Was more stubborn than him and so was their rambunctious little boy that tossed and turned inside her belly at nine o'clock sharp every night.

As if it had only happened yesterday, Siwoo could recall that Halloween afternoon as he and Evelyn were getting ready for trick-or-treater's and her water broke. She wasn't supposed to go into labor yet; wasn't supposed to deliver until December. But Seungho had always had a mind of his own. Even before he was born he caused them grief--keeping them up all night with his kicking and the cravings Evelyn would get. The delivery wasn't any easier with almost thirteen hours of contractions, waves of pain and dizziness, and doctors coming in and out of Evelyn's room to check on her. They had considered a cesarion but Evelyn insisted on delivering the baby naturally. Insisted that she was strong enough to do it and she was. Bright and early on the first of November, she had given birth to their first child; their miracle.

Looking at the pictures on the desk in his study, Siwoo let a sad weary smile work its way to his lips. That boy--his precious child with his mother's eyes and chin and nose but his dimples. That fiery spirit that fought the odds to survive; his little hand reaching and searching as he laid inside the incubator. He had been so little and frail that every day he was alive was a gift. Siwoo remembered the overwhelming joy they felt when Evelyn and Seungho could finally go home. Could recall how the nurses had wrapped the baby up in a powder blue blanket and gently placed him in Evelyn's arms as she sobbed with a glittering smile. 

That boy, how had he grown up so quickly? Where had all the time gone? Siwoo couldn't remember Seungho's youth as clearly as the things that came before. Rather, they instead blurred together in a sweeping mosaic with different events and instances popping out at him. He could see the vacations to Disneyland and Seungho crying when Mickey Mouse tried to take a picture with Evelyn and him. Remembered how much the boy hated pineapple but loved Dole Whip and the Indiana Jones ride but refused to go on Snow White. There were the sleepover's with friends, the calls from his middle school when he got into fights with bullies picking on the girls in his class. Was that when things had changed? Was that when the dynamic between him and Seungho had gone from fun-loving to tough love? Once upon a time Siwoo had believed it was for the best. That there came a time when a father had to stop being a friend and become the enforcer. How foolish he had been to believe those old lies. 

" _Don't show your face in this home again!" The words echoed through Siwoo's mind like a ghost emerging from the mist. " _Trash!_ " Why did he say that? Did he really think that by calling his son names it would accomplish anything?_

__

Sitting down at the desk, Siwoo reclined back--his gaze stuck to Seungho's high school graduation picture. Dressed in his cap and gown with the tassels for the honors program and student council hanging from his neck, he didn't look happy. Despite his smile, Siwoo could see now that there was misery in his son's eyes. A misery that he had put there. Evelyn had known about Seungho's preferences long before the boy had come out to her. She was intuitive like that; catching things others missed or actively tried to conceal. And she had been the one to comfort him and support him even after Siwoo had banished Seungho from the family home. How had things gone so wrong? How could he have done such a thing? 

__

"Dad?" a voice called from the doorway with a gentle tap to the doorpost. 

__

Sniffling quietly as he collected his thoughts, Siwoo turned; smiling when he saw Soo-min. "Hey sprout," he said fondly. "Are grandma and grandpa here?" 

__

Taking pause as he called her "sprout", something he hadn't called her in years, Soo-min smiled. "Yeah, they're here." Closing the space between them, she hugged him from the side; gaze drifting to the pictures on his desk, the majority of which were of Seungho. Despite how furious their father had been all those years ago when he threw Seungho out of the house she could tell that he regretted his actions. Of course he was too proud to admit it outright but the number of pictures of her oldest brother on Siwoo's desk increased every year. "Seungho and Nakyum will be here soon too," she said quietly. 

Siwoo exhaled a deep breath; tongue licking his dry lips out of habit. "I wish your mother was here," he said. "She always knew what to do in complicated situations." 

"Dad...?" 

"Hmm?" 

Pausing, Soo-min watched her words. "What are you really angry about? Is it really because Seungho's gay or is it something else?" 

There was a long moment of silence as the questions hung in the air between them. Flattening his lips into a line, he stared at his son's graduation picture. "I didn't want him to suffer. I knew that being gay means your life is just that much harder and people will judge you and exclude you." 

"But you judged him and excluded him," she countered; her arm still draped over Siwoo's shoulders and bracing him as the words sunk in. "Does it really make a difference who he likes?" 

____

Siwoo didn't answer. Just continued looking at the picture as tears formed in his eyes; crystalline droplets rolling down his cheeks when he blinked. 

____

Looking from the picture to her father, Soo-min knew she had gotten her point across. Kissing the top of his head as she smoothed backed the silkened peppered waves of hair, Soo-min smiled softly. "It's okay to be wrong and it's okay to admit it." Hugging him, she could feel herself choking up. "I love you dad." 

____

Unable to stop the tears but still too proud to let himself breakdown completely, Siwoo nodded with a sniffle; hugging her back. "I love you too sprout." Swallowing back the lump in his throat, he pulled away and discretely dried his eyes. "You should go make sure grandma and grandpa are settled in. I'll be down in a minute." 

____

"'Kay." 

____

Listening to Soo-min's footsteps as she left, his eyes never once looked away from Seungho's picture. He had excluded him. He had judged him. He had rebuked him--his own son. The child he and Evelyn had prayed for endlessly and feared would never be born. He had hurt him. Had shamed him. And he had lost him. For nearly eleven years, they hadn't spoken to one another yet Siwoo could feel the boy's absence in his bones. Felt it even more when Evelyn had passed after relapsing. Their children were her gifts to him and he had scorned Seungho despite this. Their boy. Their son. His son. 

____

Eyes watering more the longer he was alone, he felt the seed of guilt growing in his gut bloom. Seungho may have been smiling in his graduation picture but his dimples weren't showing. It wasn't a genuine smile because if it were then his cheeks would have dimpled the way they did when he was a child. When was the last time he saw his sons cheeks do that? Would he live long enough to see it again? Would he even remember Seungho's face or who he was when and if it happened? In a single wave, every decision he had made as a father washed over him reducing him to tears. He didn't want to forget. He didn't want to lose the memories he had of his family--of his wife and children. He didn't want to lose them but he had already lost Seungho. Siwoo loved the boy but still, somehow, he had lost him. 

____

"I'm sorry..." 

____

\---------------------------------------------------------------------- 

____

"HoHo!" Soo-min gleefully shouted as she leapt from the porch when her brother emerged from the rental car. Sprinting down the driveway, she jumped him; he reaching with a grunt as he caught her. "Heyya!" 

____

Chuckling, Seungho smiled back. "Hey Mimi, what's up? Are grandma and grandpa here yet?" 

____

Nodding as she slid down, standing on her own feet now, she kissed his cheek. "They're inside. Oh," she paused taking a step back, "like my new dress?" 

____

Eyeing her up and down, he couldn't help but notice that the outfit resembled their mother's favorite summer dress. "It's beautiful." There weren't any jokes, just genuine gratitude that he could see Mimi smiling the way she used to when they were teenagers--bright and cheery. She always did love the lake house. "Is dad around?" 

____

Nodding. her smile only dimming minutely, she looked at the ground; her toes curling up and bunching against the small rocks that paved the driveway. "He's in the study." 

____

"Is he okay?" 

____

She nodded. "Yeah, he's fine. He just needed a minute to himself." 

____

Looking up at the second floor to the window beneath the dormer, took a deep breath. It was a strange feeling being back here after eleven years of estrangement. Would he be okay? Would him and their father be able to work through their differences or would he be treated with the same coldness behind closed doors? The sound of Nakyum closing the passenger door brought him out of his thoughts before they could distract him any longer. Looking away from the second floor window, Seungho turned to Nakyum who now stood beside him with a gentle knowing smile. 

____

"Ready?" Nakyum asked. 

____

Seungho smiled; lifting their joined hands up so he could kiss the back of his partners. "Ready." 

____

\-------------------------------------------------------------------- 

____

The sounds of sparklers crackling in the driveway as the younger cousins played echoed through the air alongside the mellow music coming from the portable speaker Lee--Seungho's second cousin--had set up. While the children played and explored the forest by the creek and the sand dunes the adults had gathered in the backyard for drinks and continued dinner conversations. There was Uncle Jo and Aunt Freya chatting up a storm concerning Danish politics with cousin Eun-mi and her sister Mi-hae. Over by the firepit grandma was regaling Uncle Ji-hoon and his third wife Shira about her latest trip to Kerala in southern India while grandpa just nodded along and gave his two cents here and there. 

____

Over by the fountain by the back fence and rose garden Soo-min was hiding with her friends and new boyfriend Avery--smoking cigarettes and laughing themselves to pieces as they took funny Snapchat videos and posted them to Instagram. It had been years since she had last been so happy. The loneliness at home with Seungho being gone and Seungwon spending days at Liza's had become stifling and the stress from her classes had only made things worse. There was only so much her friends could do and some things she wouldn't even divulge to them because she too ashamed of how desperate for affection she was. 

____

But over the winter intersession she had met Avery in her philosophical literature class and, weeks later, he asked her out. It was so sweet how he wrote it down on a piece of paper, folded it up the way kids in middle school did when they were passing notes, and tried to act cool when she opened it. Thankfully he had gotten the approval of not only Seungwon and her father, but also Seungho who was far more protective of her than anyone else in the family was. Looking across the yard, Soo-min smiled when she saw Seungho and Nakyum sitting on the couches by the fire pit talking comfortably to some family friends. Surprisingly enough, her father who was sitting across from her brother didn't look uncomfortable in the least with the way Nakyum was clinging to Seungho or how their hands were twined together. Maybe he'd had a change of heart. Or perhaps he didn't care as much anymore. Either way it was a blessing. 

____

"I was surprised to see you at the gala," Dr. Nyusti commented with a quirked smile as she absentmindedly swirled the wine in her glass; her spouse sitting beside her nodding in agreement as he quietly watched on. "You rarely ever have time to come to the art exhibitions we put on anymore." 

____

Smirking like an unashamed teenager who'd been caught red handed, Seungho shrugged. "Well I see Seungwon's paintings regularly whenever I meet up with him..." Breathing a laugh when Seungwon threw a piece of popcorn at him from across the fire pit, he retracted his statement. "Sheesh, I was just joking. Anyway," he said, turning back to the professor. "I was tied up with my internship and couldn't make it most times but as a resident I have a bit more free-time and freedom to make my own schedule." 

____

"Well that's good news," Dr. Nyusti nodded; her thick Hungarian accent punctuating her flawless command of the English language. "Mmm," she hummed mid-sip before clearing her throat. "Will you be attending the Eve Award dinner this year?" 

____

Seungho opened his mouth to answer but halted as Siwoo interjected. "He was there last year Ani," he answered with a casual confidence. 

____

Brows furrowing, her lips turned down with bewilderment. "No he wasn't." 

____

"Yes he was," Siwoo insisted. "He was there with his friend Katlyn. Remember, you joked about how unrecognizable he was with short hair?" 

____

There was silence between them all. "That was five years ago Siwoo." 

____

Stunned yet stoic, Seungho glanced to his father--the man's expression crumpling in confusion. 

____

"I could've sworn it was last year," Siwoo muttered. Blinking back his confusion, he shook his head. 

____

"Well time does fly so it's understandable," Dr. Fields, the professors spouse, stated with an air of humor and levity to cut through the sudden tension. "I can't remember how long Ani and I have been married sometimes." 

____

"You can't remember you bicycle helmet in the mornings dear," she joked. 

____

"True." 

____

As the lighthearted humor and witty banter returned to the conversation, Seungho felt his stomach knot up the longer he looked at his father--his fingers twitching anxiously as he watched the man shift uncomfortably in his seat on the couch. How could his memory be that bad? It weren't as if his absence were anything new. He hadn't gone to the awards since his mother had passed--her funeral being one of the last times he had seen his father. But that had been years ago; over half a decade. How could he get that confused with last years awards? 

____

Excusing himself, Seungho gave Nakyum's hand a gentle squeeze before he stood up and left without another word. He couldn't be there right now. Not when everything was still so new and he was still sorting out his feelings and how he should act and what face he should wear while lying to the rest of the world about his father's condition. No one knew. Just him, Seungwon, Soo-min, and Nakyum after he had sobbed in his arms on the couch that night one month ago. They were the only ones who knew about the dementia. About the treatments and the doctors appointments and the small lapses in his memory that had come to the forefront of their attention. 

____

Walking briskly by the few party goer's that had chosen to lounge inside in the dining room and kitchen with their drinks, he forced a pleasant smile until he reached the living room and couldn't hide it anymore. Taking the stairs two at a time he searched for a safe space to hide out of instinct. Body moving off of muscle memory as if it were only yesterday that he were a child playing hide and seek with his friends, Seungho closed the door to the study behind him, crossed the dim space, and braced himself against his father's desk. Lungs raking in air with a desperate gasp, he breathed out an unsteady sigh--tears forming at the edges of his earthen eyes while trembling arms held him up with uncertainty. 

____

"It's okay, it's okay," he murmured his mantra. "You're okay, it's okay...it's o-okay..." 

____

Biting back a whimper, his arms caved beneath his weight. Slinking down to the ground, Seungho turned around so the his back was pressed into the desk and his arms were resting on the knees of his bent legs. Sniffling, he tried pulling himself together but the tears wouldn't stop so he cried in silence--head tilted up in question to the heavens above while thoughts of everything and nothing at all ran through his head. It was such a strange and unfamiliar feeling, this confliction he was experiencing. Odd was it how a part of him wanted their father to forget somethings but then lamented the things he did recall. Seungho felt guilty--as if he had cursed his father with this illness despite how silly and wrong he knew those accusations were. 

____

Closing his eyes for a long moment as he took a deep breath in, they fluttered open at the gentle knocking at the study door. "Yes?" he rasped; voice rough from the strain he was under. 

____

There was no answer, just the opening of the door and Siwoo standing in the entrance with his hands in his pockets and both eyes fixed on his son. They watched each other for a moment and then another--a silent conversation unfolding between them as they assessed the other. 

____

"Want some company?" Siwoo said at last; his tone similar to the one he used to speak with when Seungho came home from school in a bad mood and would hide in his room.Waiting until Seungho nodded, he closed the door behind him and grunted mutedly as he sat down on the wooden floor next to his son. Shoulder to shoulder, Siwoo looked Seungho up and down with his brows pinching slightly. "You've gotten taller." 

____

Exhaling with a disbelieving expression as he stared into the gloom, Seungho turned to him. "I've been this tall for seven years." 

____

"Well you look taller to me." A static of silence filled the air once more; the hum of their collective anxiety drowning out the lively chatter from outside and down below in the living spaces. "Don't do this." 

____

"Do what?" 

____

"Act as if you've already lost me." Looking at Seungho who had quickly turned to look back at him, Siwoo gave a weak chuckle. "You're a terrible liar. Always have been." 

____

"No I'm not." 

____

"Yes you are." 

____

Chewing on the inside of his cheek as he gazed back at his father, Seungho noted how much he had changed since their epic fight all those years ago. The gray hairs had set in and there were faint wrinkles bowing the corners of his eyes yet his forehead remained smooth. His jawline had softened and an air of sage-like grace had befallen him. Yet in contradiction to time's steady aging his eyes were still bright and full with cheeks dimpling whenever the ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. 

____

"Dad," Seungho almost choked as all he had felt for the last month--for the last eleven years--came rushing back. "I'm gay." He had never properly come out to his father. Had never said the words. Now, sitting in his father's study on the floor, Seungho felt as if he were a teenager once more in his high school uniform nervously chewing on the sleeves of his blazer. "I like guys a-and...and I wanted to tell y-you." 

____

Expression calm and pensive, Siwoo quietly let out a sigh. "I know." 

____

Throat tight, something in Seungho told him to keep going. "A-And I wanted to tell you sooner. I-I didn't want to fight t-that night and..." he trailed off. Seungho couldn't speak. Couldn't form the words because his head was so full and his heart was too frantic. "It hurts...what you said that night...it still hurts." 

____

Closing the fragment of space between them, Siwoo's arms wrapped around his son pulling him in close. He couldn't do it anymore. Couldn't allow his pride--his arrogance--to rule him. Not when his son was hurting. Not when the pain that plagued his boy had been of his creation. Resting his head atop Seungho's, Siwoo searched for the words he should say. He was never any good at these sort of things. Even when Evelyn had been alive and she had told him precisely what to say, he would still mess it up. He was useless outside of a courtroom. But this was important so he searched and searched as the fabric of his top left shoulder was dampened with tears. 

____

"I'm sorry," was all he could say. It was the only thing Siwoo could think to say in this situation. After all, the blame was his to bear to begin with. And after years of letting Seungho carry it on his shoulders it was time that he take the brunt of it. "I'm sorry Seungho. It's not your fault." 

____

Seungho shuddered with a heaving sob as he crumpled even further. 

____

"It's not your fault. I still love you. And you're still my son." Rubbing Seungho's arm as he cried, Siwoo allowed himself a few moments of crying. Let himself be taken in by the mood but only for a moment. Steadying his breaths and encouraged Seungho to do the same with gentle pats to his shoulder. "Are you happy?" 

____

"Mmm?" Seungho hummed in question as he dried his eyes. 

____

"With your partner. Are you happy?" 

____

Calming himself down enough so that he could speak, Seungho nodded. "I am." Staring down at his hands as they rested in his lap, Seungho smirked. "I really love him. Sometimes it hurts, but in a good way if that makes any sense." Fidgeting with the hem of his jeans, Seungho bit his lip. "I bought a ring. It's at home but...I..." 

____

Surprised by his own excitement, Siwoo smiled. "When do you plan on asking him?" 

____

Seungho shrugged. "Dunno. I bought it on an impulse. I wasn't really thinking but I saw it in the window at Tiffany's and I just had this image in my head of us." 

____

"Ah," Siwoo nodded. "The ol' Tiffany's window display. That's how it always starts." 

____

Gnawing on his bottom lip still, Seungho didn't look up as he spoke. "H-How'd you know when to ask mom? Did you wait or...?" 

____

Breathing in sharply through his nose as he thought back to when he was his sons age, Siwoo shrugged. "I suppose I knew when I realized I loved her. I'd wake up and smile when I saw her lying next to me. Even if we had fought the night before, I would still wake up and smile when I saw her there." Looking to his son who was smiling to himself, Siwoo chuckled. "If you're already doing that then you're ready." Grunting again as he stood up and dusted off his pants, Siwoo offered Seungho a hand. "Ready to go back?" 

____

Looking up, Seungho stared at his father with wonder as he saw the man from his childhood standing before him--peppered hair and wrinkles gone with a youthful smile painting his face. "Yeah," he beamed back. Taking his hand, he rose then, without thinking, hugged Siwoo. "Thanks dad." 

____

At loss for words, Siwoo hugged him back with gratitude. "Always, son." 

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey There Y’all!!
> 
> Just wanted to share the news that I have a new Tumblr where I’ll be posting chapter previews, new fic ideas, and taking polls of what y’all want to see next. Just visit Tumblr and search @anotherbluesunday and click that “follow” button to stay in the loop!
> 
> Stay lovely and stay freaky,  
> -Sunday


	20. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Love you to the moon and to Saturn_   
>  _Passed down like folk songs_   
>  _The love lasts so long_
> 
> -Taylor Swift, _Seven_

............... _Manhattan, NY__early august_...............

Nakyum hadn't left the bed all morning and had only rolled out from underneath the sheets when the food delivery driver rang the doorbell. Hair a messy halo adorning his crown with the dew of sweat sticking to his skin, he mumbled under his breath about going back to Holland next summer. After their trip to LA with their friends, Seungho had surprised Nakyum with a plane ticket to Holland and a train ride down to Brussels. They had both been talking about taking a trip to Europe but never seemed to have the time. Nakyum thought maybe in a few years when work and their life together had settled that then they'd be able to plan something. He wasn't expecting an impromptu trip made in secret with help from Miranda's mother--a travel agent and second mother to Seungho who called him frequently on the weekends to make sure he was eating and taking time to relax.

Heading down the hallway, he paused to look at the pictures from their back to back vacations that Seungho had already posted. Smiling faces, sun-burnt backs from the California sun, cocktails by the beach at sunset, and long nights out at the clubs. They had climbed up the long trail that led to the Hollywood sign. Had visited Griffith Observatory and picnicked at the overlook for lunch. They had ridden the rollercoaster and Ferris wheel at the Santa Monica Pier and Seungho tried to teach Nakyum how to surf--Jihwa cackling on his own board further out when the foam board came out from underneath the painter and slapped him in the face. There was still a sense of rivalry between them but it had dissipated over time.

Nakyum snorted a laugh at the picture of all seven of them drunk and crammed into frame as they posed with drinks on the lit up veranda of the famed Abbey. It was their Drag Queens and Kings night with bottomless margaritas and he could hardly remember a thing. But what he could remember was the music blaring in the background and the dizzying conversation as it whipped back and forth from one person to the next. He remembered the way his shirt stuck to his chest from the heat and the pulsing lights overhead. The jokes Saad steamrolled Omari with and the way Omari started twerking in Saad's face as if to prove a point while singing Cardi B's "WAP" in French. Kat was making out with her girlfriend who lived in LA and had met up with them that night and Miranda was on the dance floor grooving to "Physical" by Dua Lipa--the redhead pumping her fists into the air and tossing her hair from side to side as if it were the eighties all over again.

Biting his bottom lip, Nakyum blushed in the quiet silence as he remembered how Seungho took him by the hand and led him away from the bar to the outdoor patio. Turning the corner into the alley between the club and the residential area bordering the space, the wind was knocked out of him when Seungho pressed him against the wall and kissed him hard and deep. Nakyum's hands were instantly tangled in Seungho's hair while his calm cool lover traced his body under the fabric of his shirt with knowing hands. They had made love every night while on vacation--every time starting with a delving lustful kiss that evolved into an undeniable need to be fixed together in hysteric bliss. It was almost embarrassing how much more intimately knowledgeable Seungho had become of him during that week. The things he did to him and asked Nakyum to do to him.

Those hot hazy nights and surreal mornings stood in stark contrast to lofty almost serene pictures of the Dutch countryside and the picturesque canals of Amsterdam. The long nights they spent touring the city streets hand in hand with music and the scent of coffee and sweets filling the air. Those mornings sitting at the cafe eating their brunch in a comfortable silence as they immersed themselves in the world and daily routines of the people around them. Seungho had learned Dutch during his university years after mastering Germany which made things easier on them as tourists. The locales welcomed them as if they were natives and offered them insight on the best things to do while in town. It was the same in Brussels and all the stops they made in between their destinations. 

Gazing at the picture of him and Seungho cheek to cheek and smiling in front of the lit up canals, Nakyum swallowed hard on the bundle of nerves building in the back of his throat. He had bought a ring the day before and meant to propose that night but had gotten cold feet. He was afraid of it being too soon. Of screwing up their relationship or making things awkward. But at the same time he loved Seungho. Adored him so deeply that imagining his world without him in it was akin to toeing the line between living and dying. 

Attention snapping back when the front door opened, Nakyum cleared his throat then forced a smile. "Hey babe, you're home early."

Smiling from dimple to dimple when Nakyum called him "babe" and called the apartment "home", Seungho closed in around the painter--hugging him with a kiss to his cheek and shoulder. "The surgery finished sooner than I thought," he commented; the two of them gently swaying from side to side as they soaked in the quiet peace of that moment. It was so perfect. So domestic and comforting that he never wanted it to end. Never wanted to let go of this feeling. "What'd you get?" Seungho asked while looking down at the knotted plastic bag of food in Nakyum's hand.

"Hmm?" the painter hummed as they parted. "Oh, just an iced coffee and sandwich from Romeo's."

"You ordered delivery? It's just two blocks down," Seungho chuckled as he combed back Nakyum's hair.

"Yeah but I felt like being lazy this morning."

"Well I hope you still have room for dinner tonight. It's family night so we're going over to dad's place."

"I'll have room," Nakyum smiled, his eyes closing with a content smile as he leaned into Seungho's touch. "Keep going," he almost purred. "I like when you play with my hair."

Chuckling, Seungho kissed his forehead. "How about we hang out and watch something in the living room. You can eat your lunch and I'll play with your hair. Sound good?"

"Mmm, can we have sex after I eat?"

It never ceased to make Seungho smile when Nakyum voiced his wants and acted with boldness. "Like I'd say no?"

Smiling back at his partner, Nakyum kissed his chin. "I love you."

"Love you too sweetness."

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

............... _Later that same week_...............

"What do you mean you haven't asked him yet?" Miranda snapped as she closed her locker; her hands throwing her hair up into a bun while her stethoscope swung from where it had been slung around her neck.

"I mean I haven't asked him yet," Seungho responded. 

"But you already bought the ring and your dad is even on board with it. What's the hang up?"

Sighing, Seungho was about to answer when he caught Jihwa looking at him from the middle dividing bench where he was sneaking glances at him from the rim of his black box frame glances. "Not you too."

"She's got a point," Jihwa said matter-of-factly.

"It's not that easy you know."

"Actually it is. You just turn to the guy, get down on your knee, and pop the question."

"Yeah, and let's not forget the overwhelming anxiety or fear that he'll say no," Seungho retorted.

Jihwa snorted a laugh. "Yeah right, like Nakyum would say no. The guy is crazy for you. He'd move across the world for you if you asked."

"That's not the problem."

"Seungho," Jihwa sighed with a muted grunt as he got up then gently smacked his chest with the rolled up New Yorker magazine he had been reading, "Nakyum loves you. You love Nakyum. You guys moved in with each other and act like you're already married. Your father accepts your relationship and you have a stable career and so does your partner. What else are you waiting for? Just go for it man or you'll regret it." Looking at him for a second more, Jihwa shook his head. "I'm going. See you in surgery. Later Miranda."

"Later Jiji," Miranda called after him. Waiting until the door closed behind Jihwa, she took a more defensive stance with her hands on her hips. "He's right you know."

"Yeah," Seungho grumbled while closing his locker. "I know."

Pressing his forehead against the cool metal of the locker once Miranda had left and he was the only one there to linger in the silence, Seungho took a deep measured breath in before releasing a long exhale--repeating the exercise numerous times before the thoughts in his anxious mind had calmed and the threads were clear. Reaching his left hand into the pant pocket of his scrubs, he held the engagement ring between his fingers in it's blue velvet pouch--the same ring he had bought months ago without hesitation. 

Why was he so anxious? Why was he second guessing everything he and Nakyum had built together now that he had bought the ring? It was obvious wasn't it? That this was the path they were heading down. He doubted it'd be much of a surprise since he and Nakyum had talked about marriage numerous times before. It was something they both wanted and it was something they wanted with each other. Something that he wanted; something he had dreamt of but never thought would be within his grasp. 

He'd seen many surgeons fall in love, get married, fall out of love, divorce, and then repeat. He'd seen people sacrifice their identities--who they were--all for the sake of fitting into someone else's story. But Seungho never had to do that for Nakyum. Never had to hide or falsify himself. Never had to make up any excuses or change who he was. Nakyum loved him regardless. Had seen his flaws--the parts of himself he wasn't proud of, the parts he hated and wanted to forget. Nakyum had seen the ugliest sides of his personality and met him there. Had loved him enough to pick him up off the ground, hold him in his arms while he was a drunken mess, and listen to his nonsensical ramblings and he sobbed while begging for forgiveness. They may not have been together for years and years but what did that matter when they already knew each other so well?

Fingers clutching the ring tighter, Seungho breathed out. He'd ask him tonight. If not that night then the next. It may not be a grand gesture or some overworked romantic experience that would make his shy partner uncomfortable. It'd be a quiet intimate thing--like a secret only they'd shared. But Seungho was going to ask him. He had bought the ring because he knew Nakyum was the one so why was he waiting? There wasn't any good reason for it. Just nonsensical moral panic about not being good enough. Hopefully he wouldn't make himself sick with nervousness. It didn't happen often but Seungho had once worried himself to the point of vomiting after his final exams in med school.

Eyes opening when his pager chimed at his hip, Seungho breathed out--fingers releasing the ring in his pocket. With the pouch and its contents acting as a lucky charm, he coiled his long hair into a tight bun at the base of his neck then covered the top of his head and the bun with his lucky surgical cap. Hand patting his left pant pocket, he licked his lips, counted to three, and then left the locker room with renewed resolve.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

............... _Friday night_...............

Nakyum couldn't keep calm. Not if he was standing still he couldn't so he busied himself with everything and anything. He had cleaned and folded the laundry--even the fitted sheets. He had cleaned the studio, had vacuumed the entire apartment, washed the few dishes in the sink, and had bought all the groceries for dinner. Now as he waited for the food to cook, Nakyum found himself with an unwanted abundance of time. He had decided he'd ask Seungho the big question. Even knew when he'd pop the question and had everything planned. It was something he never imagined himself having the nerve to ask--asking someone to marry him; to share their life--their everything--with him for the rest of their collective lives. Had dreamt of finding a partner he could settle down with but that had mostly been a fantasy he'd use to help himself fall asleep when he was alone and aching from all the other heartbreaks in his life.

Seungho was the first person he wanted to hold onto but not in a cheap possessive manner. He wanted to put his heart in Seungho's hands and for Seungho to give him his. He wanted this indescribable boundless affection that transcended love and worship to be reciprocated. To have a physical manifestation of their devotion present for the world to see regardless of what the societal consequences might be. Seungho had taught him so much in the two years they'd known each other. Had taught Nakyum how to quite the doubt within him, to be patient with himself. Had taught him how to accept what he couldn't change and how to work on what he could. Seungho had showed him his own inner strength that he did not know he possessed. Taught him self-love, self-respect, and self-care. It was because of Seungho's unwavering belief in him and devotion that Nakyum had found his feet and learned to stand on his own without the support of others.

It was because of Seungho's love that Nakyum had seen the beauty in himself and came to know his own self-worth. Had it not been for their chance meeting he would have still been the same self-deprecating tragic artist he had been all that time ago. What had only been twenty-four months felt like a lifetime ago and the changes they had both made together had been numerous. They had grown together. Had learned and suffered and healed together. They had gone through the pits, nearly lost one another, and still found a way back to each other. Sure, it wasn't like they had been together for years like Liza and Seungwon or Kat and her girl Mara over in LA whom she'd been with for eight years. But that didn't make what he and Seungho had any less real or any less powerful. Nakyum was certain. Was sure that Seungho was his person and didn't want to hesitate a moment longer even if it meant quelling a panic attack here and there in between cooking and doing chores around the house.

Eyes lighting up with a brilliant smile immediately brightening up his face when the lock on the front door clicked back into place, Nakyum only had a moment to react--a small gleeful yelp escaping him as Seungho came in and scooped him up into his arms. Laughing as Seungho kissed his nose then forehead, Nakyum felt all the anxiety and pent up stress leave his body. What had he been worrying for when happiness came so easily when they were together? It was effortless the way they would fall into this cozy domesticity. So easy the way Seungho would hold him in his arms, sway to the music playing over the sound system, and rest his cheek on the top of Nakyum's head.

Taking a deep breath in, Seungho pulled away with a boyish smirk. "You're cooking?"

Blushing, Nakyum scowled with a smack to Seungho's chest. "Yes, I'm cooking."

"Don't be like that sweetness. I'm just surprised is all because you never cook." Snorting a laugh when Nakyum's furrowed brows only pinched together more, Seungho massaged his tense shoulders with a sweet harmless kiss to the painters forehead. "I was just pulling your leg Na. Whatcha making?"

Pursing his lips, Nakyum glanced to the kitchen. "Garlic butter noodles with chicken and sauteed veggies," he muttered like a petulant child.

Touched that his partner was learning to make his favorite dishes, Seungho kissed his cheek. "It smells amazing Nakyum."

"Really? Because it didn't sound like it did when you first asked."

"I mean it." Arms falling to encircle Nakyum's waist, Seungho gently rocked them to the beat of the music playing. "I'm starving so I'm even more excited to try it."

"That's because anything tastes better on an empty stomach."

"So it'll be even more mind blowing."

Snickering though lacking any malice, Nakyum just leaned into the warmth of Seungho's chest and the crook of his neck. He truly did love him. Was sure of it even more in moments like these when it felt the world had slowed, time had stilled, and everything had been painted in a mosaic of pastels and pops of candy colored light. Love had never come easy before Seungho. Nothing did. Not even breathing. Not even existing. But now Nakyum could sleep soundly--waking up each morning with a smile because he'd roll over and see Seungho lying beside him with soft gentle snores escaping past his lips and lashes dusting his cheeks as he dreamt.

"Come on," Seungho flashed that charming smirk of his that tugged at his dimples as he led Nakyum toward the kitchen. "Let's finish cooking together."

"Yeah," Nakyum smiled back. That was it. He definitely was asking him tonight.

\---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---x---

Stomachs full and spirits high, Nakyum and Seungho laid on the couch listening to Fleetwood Mac's _Rumors_ album play--Nakyum fitted to Seungho's side with a hand on his chest while Seungho held him flush against him with one arm. The lights had been turned down low with two cedar and sandalwood candles scenting the air as the first rain of the season came down outside. It was a warm humid rain that clung to the air and stained it with the smell of leaves and dirt and newly damped asphalt.

Focusing on the pattering of droplets as they came down outside, Nakyum traced figures on Seungho's chest while Seungho guessed what they were in between singing the lyrics to "Dreams." It was one of his favorite songs; something he'd grown up listening to on family road trips--his parents passionately singing the words to each in the front of the car while Seungho and his siblings played with their PSP's and Gameboy's. Those were some of his favorite memories. Not even the destination itself but the journey and the fun they had getting there. The laughs him and his brother and sister would have every time their father missed a turned or got lost. The vivid memory of his mother springing out of the car when they got to the poppy fields in california and she ran into the fray of red--her dress and lipstick matching the vibrant hue that painted the landscape. The backdrop of the sun-kissed mountains with stretches of gleaming green grass moving.

Seungho wanted to make memories like those with Nakyum. Wanted to see him smiling from ear to ear in a field of flowers again the way he did in Holland. He wanted to see him lit by the glow of the setting sun in Bali and marvelling at the stars of the South American night sky. Maybe even visit some places again with their children. Heart fluttering and throat tight, Seungho let go of a long soothing sigh as his free hand reached into his pant pocket; his fingers finding the small velvet pouch without fail and working the drawstrings open.

"Hey Na," Seungho spoke in soft hushed tones as he nuzzled against the feather-light hair atop his lovers head.

"Mmm?" the painter hummed; tilting his head up so that he could see Seungho. Dreamy smiling falling just a fraction, Nakyum reached up with his left hand to cup the side of Seungho's jaw. "You okay? You have that look you get when something's bothering you."

"It's not that something's bothering me..." Pausing as he bit his bottom lip with brows pitching, Seungho rolled them onto their sides so that he could face Nakyum. Ring concealed in the sweaty palm of his fist, Seungho could have thrown up he was so nervous. It was only four words. Just four little words and yet they were the most important words he'd ever utter in his life apart from "I love you." Tapping their foreheads together so that Nakyum couldn't look away and would be distracted, Seungho brought Nakyum's hand down and silently slipped the ring onto his finger. "Will you marry me?"

Body stiff from shock, Nakyum was frozen except for the hand that he lifted--eyes fixed on the delicate glittering platinum band. "S-Seungho..."

"I don't think it's too soon personally. Actually, I'd say it's about time. I've been holding onto this for a while but didn't have the courage to ask you."

"Since when?" Nakyum breathed almost as a whisper.

Watching Nakyum's expression carefully, Seungho swallowed hard. "Since February."

Nakyum looked up at him; his mouth not speaking any words because they were clearly conveyed in his glassy eyes.

"You know if you keep looking at me like that I'm gonna start crying too," Seungho joked to cover up the rasp in his tone as the sentiment caught up to him. Closing his eyes, he pressed their foreheads together a bit more; their noses brushing and breath mingling. "I want to share my life with you and I want you to share yours with me. I'm not perfect and I'm still learning things about myself and making improvements every day but I want this with you. I want it all--the house, the dogs, the kids, all of it in time. But I want it with you."

Body trembling as the first tears rolled down his cheek, Nakyum fished the ring out of his pocket he'd been holding onto and slipped it onto Seungho's ring finger, much to Seungho's surprise. "I'd like that," he beamed, blinking past the tears as he looked from the ring to Seungho's handsome countenance. "I want it all with you."

"When did you...?"

"I bought it when we went to Amsterdam. I was actually going to ask you on our last night but I chickened out," Nakyum laughed. "Will you marry me Seungho?"

Laughing despite his own tears of joy, Seungho reached up to take Nakyum's face in his hands and kissed him. "Yes. I'll marry you Nakyum. Will you marry me?"

"Of course I will you psycho," Nakyum joked; the both of them laughing--jumping a little when they nearly rolled off of the couch. "I love you Seungho."

Kissing Nakyum, Seungho smiled. "I love you Nakyum. My Baek Nakyum."

Nakyum chuckled with thumbs tracing the line of Seungho's jaw as he held his face. "My Seungho. My Yoon Seungho..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it, the next chapter will be the last followed by a short epilogue. I'm trying not to get choked up here because it's been a crazy journey and y'all have been so supportive throughout this entire process. Like I said before, this isn't the last POTN fanfic that I will be writing but I do need to wrap up my AOT fanfic "Ink." because I set that one aside in its final arc because this one demanded more of my attention than the other. 
> 
> You can expect me back with another POTN fanfic in December. Want to be part of the selection process? Visit my Tumblr @anotherbluesunday and be sure to follow for all fanfic updates and polls!!
> 
> Anywho, stay tuned for the finale. It'll likely be shorter than the other chapters but that doesn't mean it won't be any less impactful. Take care, stay happy, and stay healthy my freaky darlings.
> 
> XoXo  
> -Sunday Fields


	21. Epilogue: PS, I love you

............... _London, England__present day_...............

Waking up after a lazy morning sleeping in, Seungho slipped out of his travel sweats, t-shirt, and hoodie that he had fallen asleep in and hopped into the shower while Nakyum was still fast asleep. Cracking his neck and back as the hot water poured down on him, he let all the stress that had built up over the last few days wash away. Since moving to London a few years ago after their wedding he'd been called on to speak at medical summits about the progress that had been made in the treatment in certain cardiovascular diseases--the most recent being a breakthrough he pioneered to treat and remove an aortic aneurysm that medical professionals had named the "Yoon Method."

Chuckling to himself as the thoughts floated gently through his mind, it was wild--he thought--how much had changed over the years without him even noticing. He was closed off and unsure of himself ten years ago when he started his surgical internship. Took every loss personally and carried their burdens which almost made him break; sometimes he still did but less so now. It was Nakyum's influence that helped him change. That strange beautiful man drunk on a park bench in the snow. Seungho couldn't help the smile that crept across his lips as he remembered that day in November. 

He hadn't known it then but meeting Nakyum was the best thing to ever happen to him. All the monsters he had been running from--his crippling fear of inferiority and not having the right answers. The need to be perfect and not let anyone down. Nakyum had slowly--gently and with great love--dismantled these self-destructive practices. Had it not been for Nakyum, Seungho would have likely still been the same person now as he was then. Looking down at his wedding band with a smirk, he still remembered the night he had proposed and how Nakyum did the same moments later. Such a spunky thing he was, Nakyum never ceased to surprise him even now after nearly a decade together.

Stepping out of the show, Seungho could hear music playing. ' _Nakyum must be up,_ ' he deduced. Drying off before slipping into his lounge pants and a clean black t-shirt, Seungho left the bathroom; a smile punctuating his cheeks with twinned dimples when Loom stood up from where he'd been waiting outside the door for Seungho and followed him into the living room. The entire flat was scented with the tantalizing smell of cooked ham, eggs, and potatoes mixed with mushrooms, green onions, and chopped bell peppers. Stomach rumbling a mere moment after he had stepped into the space, Seungho remembered how much he loved his husband's cooking. They had travelled across the globe together. Had sampled countless cuisines and tried local delicacies that some would cringe at--Nakyum nearly vomiting when they ate silkworms in Cambodia much to Seungho's humor. But despite it all, nothing beat Nakyum's cooking. There was just something about it that made it taste that much better even though it wasn't anything fancy.

As light from the sunrise poured in through the kitchen window, Seungho paused when he rounded the corner to find Nakyum happily working away over the stove with the counter and kitchen island full of ingredients, chopped up vegetables on cutting boards, and already buttered toast with home-made blueberry lemon jam in a jar off to the side. Head bobbing to Miki Matsubara's "Mayonaka no Door (Stay With Me)", it was adorable to watch Nakyum try to stay on key with the singer despite not having an ear for music. For as much as Seungho loved and adored Nakyum, he had to admit that his husband's artistic talents remained solely in the realm of painting, sculpture, and crafting. But even so, Seungho loved how Nakyum didn't care. How that when he turned around and saw Seungho standing there admiring him, Nakyum grooved over as the saxophone solo played and wrapped his arms around his waist--singing the sweet words to him with a kiss to Seungho's chin.

"Morning handsome," Nakyum cooed when their lips finally met for a much needed embrace. It had only been a week but even that felt like an eternity to be apart. Nuzzling into Seungho's chest, Nakyum sighed happily. "I missed you so much."

"You always miss me when I go somewhere," Seungho chuckled as he held Nakyum close; them both swaying gently in place as Seungho rested his cheek on Nakyum's head.

"Would you rather I not and be indifferent when you came home?"

"No. I like that you miss me." Kissing Nakyum's forehead then nose, Seungho placed a sweet but brief kiss on his lips before whispering, "I missed you too. It's good to be home."

With a dreamy smile, Nakyum held his husband's face in his hands with thumbs softly swiping over his cheeks. "Yeah, it's home now. Oh, there's some mail on the dining room table for you. It came yesterday so it hasn't been sitting there for long."

Humming, he didn't want to part from Nakyum but it could be from the family lawyer back in New York that was handling the process of slipping the family law firm between him and his siblings. It had been nearly eight years since his father had been diagnosed with early onset dementia and the treatments were going well. Of course Siwoo's memory wasn't what it had been when Seungho was a teenager but that was to be expected. And for all the junk his father ate, Siwoo was doing much better than expected. But his father had always been cautious and never left any loose ends untied so he wanted to sort things out with the family business before it got to the point where he couldn't even remember his own name.And as sad as the whole process was Seungho understood why Siwoo was doing this now instead of later.

With a yawn, Seungho picked up the mail on the table as Loom wove around and in between his legs. Flipping through them his hands stopped immediately when he got to one addressed to them from the ACF back home in the states. Recognizing the department immediately, Seungho quickly opened it as he wandered back into the kitchen without saying a word. Reading over the letter once then twice the one more time just to make sure he was seeing things right, his mouth gaped open with disbelief--a hand reaching up to cover it as his brow's arched and eyes went wide. It was out of the corner of Nakyum's eye that he caught Seungho standing there like he'd been slapped.

"Babe?" he called; wiping his hands clean before closing the space between them. Hand on Seungho's shoulder, Nakyum came up beside him looking between Seungho and the letter. "Seungho, what is it?"

"You're not going to believe this sweetness," he smiled with glassy eyes. "We've been approved."

"What? Approved for what?"

"By the adoption services. We were approved."

Eyes wider than the moon with shock and excitement crashing down on him, Nakyum looked at the letter. "No way..." Reading it once then twice just as his husband had, Nakyum breathed a laugh then another before the tears and spike of energy came. "Oh my god...Oh My God!!" Jumping into Seungho's arms, Nakyum kissed him hard--Seungho's beautiful face in his hands as they both cried. "Babe, we're going to be parents!"

Holding him tight so he wouldn't fall, Seungho beamed brightly with a gentle head butt to Nakyum's forehead. "And it's not just one but two. We're getting a sister and brother. I think the form said Chung-Ha and Gyung."

To choked up to speak, Nakyum just held him tighter. They had filed the paperwork three years ago and Nakyum had thought that they had been denied by the adoption agency and didn't receive the notice. But to actually be approved and not just for one but two children. Nakyum couldn't believe it. Couldn't have ever imagined himself being happier than he was now. After all their ups and downs--the struggles and the triumphs that led them here, they were finally going to have the family that they had dreamt of so many years ago.

Kissing Seungho's lips then cheek, Nakyum smiled with eyes closed. "I love you so much Seungho."

Smiling that same charming boyish smile that made his cheeks dimple, Seungho kissed his husband's cheek in return. "I love you too. And I love our family."

"Seungho..."

"Hmm?"

"Thank you for finding me," Nakyum beamed.

With a kiss, Seungho sighed. "You're welcome love."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it, the grand finish to Last December.
> 
> Oh my God, I can't believe it's over. It's such a bittersweet moment for me because I started this less than a year ago to help me cope with my own fears, anxiety, and existentialist fatalism and y'all have made this journey worth it. I loved writing each and every chapter of this story for you all and I hope all enjoyed reading it. And while this may be the end for our boy's in this AU, there are many more Painter Of The Night fics to come. But yeah, thank you so much for joining me on this ride and making it worth it. Y'all have been the grooviest bunch of readers I've had. So take care and I'll see y'all in the next fic. For updates remember to visit my tumblr @anotherbluesunday or my Twitter at @babybluesunday.
> 
> Love y'all and, remember, Stay Lovely and Stay Freaky!!
> 
> -Mars-Sunday


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